


To have and to keep

by my_thestral



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-07-28 13:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 85,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7641397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_thestral/pseuds/my_thestral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius Malfoy has always been fascinated by the kids of the Weasley/Potter clan. They were so colourful and so... present, weren't they? And some of them were gorgeous. But just one of them was right. And if you stare too long at the sun, you can't see anything, not even the sun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Louis (and another confused blond)

**Author's Note:**

> And done, even though if it took me months and came out three times the size it was meant to! It's not a very original idea, I know, but I guess I just wanted to try it for once. :) Confused teenagers are my thing, it seems, LOL! :)

I nearly had all of them, you know? More or less. The ones that I interested me, of course. It started innocently enough. I certainly don’t remember _actually_ deciding that pursuing the Potter-Weasley offspring in a carnal way was a good idea, it just kind of… happened. I suppose I was drawn to the freckly lot from the very first day I set eyes on them, and from then on, it was just a question of time… and of my hormones kicking in. They were _so_ different in every way that I was brought up to be – so present, so lively, so… _there_. And one _could_ argue that I’d almost literally have no one to date if I chose to avoid the infamous clan once they flooded the school! Which would, of course, be the path my father, true to his Malfoy legacy, would have me choose. So it was lucky, really, that Father was hundreds of miles away and had no say in it.

Because I just couldn’t keep away, not really, not when they were so bloody gorgeous, every last one of them… Oh, well, no, perhaps not _every_ last one of them, some _definitely_ more than the others. Like Louis Weasley, for example. He was just a bloody _perfection_ , wasn’t he? I had the worst crush on the charismatic dreamy blond ever since I had started noticing, uhm, boys, _that_ way – but I knew I didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell to ever catch his fancy. Him and his angelically beautiful two sisters were so much older and terrifically popular, and I… well, I was a Malfoy, wasn’t I? If you don’t know how much that’s worth after that blasted war, I suggest you read the latest edition of _Hogwarts: The History_ , for reference. Just to give you a hint: we aren’t winning any popularity contests. In fact, I think that back then my friendship to Rose (Weasley!) and Al (Potter!) was the only thing standing between me and an arsenal of hexes my prejudiced peers had in stock for the unfortunate member of the one family _“that got away”_.

So I was stuck with shameless, unrelenting staring at Louis and barely concealed drooling when the ridiculously handsome boy was anywhere near… and you can imagine that my imagination and my eager hand took care of the rest when I was in the privacy of my own bed. But just when I had gotten kind of used to the idea that I could stare until I was blue in the face and I would still be invisible to someone as magnificent as the only known male with Veela blood – a miracle happened in the late spring of my fifth year at Hogwarts. Fresh out of Quidditch practice I was passing by the object of my hopeless worship, gawping as open-mouthedly as always, when the beautiful seventh-year student unexpectedly turned his head and our eyes met. And I simply _gasped_. At least mentally, I did. And then Louis gave me one of his brilliant leisurely smiles, and for a moment there, I just kind of lost myself in the luxurious blue of his eyes… so much so, that I nearly walked myself into a wall.

“Careful, young Malfoy, or you might damage that pretty little face,” Louis told me with a blissful grin – and only then I realised that he had grabbed my hand and yanked me away, saving me from certain maiming the millennium-old wall of Hogwarts would have bestowed upon my face. I swear I could have sunk all the way down to China in embarrassment – except my crush was holding my hand in his warm palm, and I found myself sinking in the deep, mesmerising blue of his eyes instead. And he was smiling. That was just… Oh, my god… even after all this time… he had to try no harder to have me eating out of his hand. A sweet, lopsided Weasley grin, not at all mean, just kind of entertained, and I clearly remember wishing for nothing other than for a chance to keep staring into those enchanting eyes and lose myself in them. In hindsight, I’m fairly certain he was using his Veela magic on me, but back then I couldn’t have cared a rat’s arse what he used – and neither did my cock, happily jutting forward to be introduced.

“ _My_ … you are something special, aren’t you?” Louis suddenly murmured and leaned closer – and much to my immense shock, he closed his eyes and seemed to have _smelled_ me. “God, you smell… intoxicating,” he whispered quietly, and before I could find at least some of my melted brain, possibly very busy filling a certain _other_ head in my pants, the older blond had asked almost hungrily:

“Have you ever been kissed?”

And I just stood there, rooted to the ground and heart beating in my throat like a hammer gone mad, until I finally managed to shake my head without being able to utter a single word.  

“Would you like to?” asked Louis almost predatory and then continued in his rich, hypnotic, honey-voice without even giving him a time to reply: “Of course you’d like to, you’re _dying_ for it, I can see it in those peculiar silver eyes of yours, I can _smell_ it on you… I can feel you looking at me, you know… I’ve been able to for some time now. And you’re such a lovely little thing… so shy, so very reserved, it makes me want to… oh, never mind… Just… meet me at Astronomy tower tonight, when the lights go off… I’ll make it worth your while,” he smiled his invincible smile once again, this time deliberately charmingly, and I knew I was roast. I was so going.

I successfully tip-toed all the way down from the dorms to the Gryffindor common room that evening – yes, yes, I was sorted into Gryffindor, the first Malfoy in… well, ever, and never mind my grandfather Lucius never being quite the same again – but in spite of the late hour the place was not yet abandoned. A wiry body with almost spidery long and thin limbs was sprawled in one of the armchairs and his ginger head was half-slumbering against the arm support. JesusMerlin… not him. Hugo Weasley, the devil incarnate on duty.

Well, not according to Hugo’s father, who always fiercely defended his youngest and was secretly immensely proud of his untameable spirit, no… But according to most teachers – and a small army of crippled students lamenting their injuries in the hospital wing – Hugo Weasley, enthusiastic inventor of all things wrong and prankster par excellence – was the worst thing that hit the school since the epic Battle of Hogwarts. Perhaps even a tad worse.

 _Definitely_ worse, I decided miserably when the determined set of Weasley-blue eyes met mine, and I felt a sudden desperate feeling wash over me. I felt as if I was a butterfly, drunk on nectar, and I just landed in a colourful, carefully-set trap. There was no way in seven hells this could be good.

“What are you still doing up? To bed with you, this instant!” I barked, hoping against hope to startle a vicious mad genius into doing my bidding. He was only a younger boy, for fuck’s sake, as a house Prefect, I should be able to intimidate him! Only, this was Hugo Weasley, and on this fact alone, all bets were off. When he looked me straight in the eye with those piercing ice-blue gems, the risk of waking up the next morning with a second head growing out of my butt suddenly felt unsettlingly high.

Rose’s brother really was something. The hair so violently red he was a danger to anyone prone to epileptic fits, taller than I without even trying, and scrawny enough to be blown away by the first Autumn wind – only, it was all a deception that fooled many of his Quidditch opponents. The thin frame underneath that freckly, milky skin was most likely made of steel cables; at least it seemed so. I knew that much because he had shown up to the Quidditch try-outs last September, and the initial demeaning smirks of the old team members had turned into incredulous, open-mouthed staring, when he simply _killed_ the competition, one by one. This once, luckily, not literally. He’s been our new Keeper ever since and I suspect even the Quaffles are slightly afraid of coming near him. He’s the best the Gryffindor team has ever had.

But next to his deceptive slight build there were other things that were utterly befuddling about Hugo Weasley. For example – he was quiet. _Deadly quiet._ You’d expect from someone as epically destructive as Hugo to be loud and boisterous, and to have an air of danger about them. Not Hugo. People underestimated him all the bloody time. For about _once_. Eventually they all learned better. But anyone would have been fooled. Seriously – if a pathetically skinny redhead walked by you with his leisurely gait, stopped as if he remembered something in the last moment, and told you politely: _“You might want to run. I’m trying out something new.”_ – would you believe him? He looked about as dangerous as a wet puppy! Only, you’d probably wake up in the hospital wing quite some time later, not knowing what hit you, and it would take you a while before you started connecting the fear of god with the scrawny boy in the room, approaching you with the sentence: _“Perhaps it would be best…”_

Anyone else would have probably been escorted out of Hogwarts by the fuming Headmistress already, but this son of the Minister of Magic Hermione Granger Weasley was academically brilliant, irreplaceable at Quidditch – and seemed to have McGonagall wrapped around his little finger. I swear if there was one child the Headmistress had a soft spot for, it was him. She’d publicly scold him, she’d take an army of house points away, she’d give him one detention after another, but in the end she merely told him to _“fix it”_ in exasperated voice, and that was it – it never went further than that. And Hugo would. I’ve never seen a 14-year-old using such a large spectrum of repairing and cleaning charms. He even knew some wicked healing ones. I suppose it helps if your mum is one of the smartest witches alive and your father is one half of the genius running the brilliant Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Perhaps McGonagall really didn’t want to get rid of someone as ridiculously smart as Hugo – or perhaps she just didn’t want to let him slip out of her sight because he’d be dangerous out there, without proper education and guidance.

As inconspicuous as he seemed at first sight, it was really all in his eyes if you cared to look. Those eyes of most brilliant blue simply sparkled with restless wonder and reckless intelligence but I confess I could never look into those deep blue pools for too long. They were strangely magnetic and just fucking scary at the same time. They seemed to see to the very bottom of your not-so-well-bleached soul, and read you like a book. That bloody boy seemed to know _everything_. It was like he was sneaking around Hogwarts at night, reading everyone’s diaries. He never said much. But once you looked into his eyes you just _knew_ he knew about… erm… things… you’ve done and probably shouldn’t have. And then there was his smile. As rare as it was, that one could really throw you.

I confess myself a tad stunned every time I saw Hugo Weasley smile. The sudden, sunny grin that lit up his features instantly transformed his freckled face into a thing of beauty. It was as if a well of light opened inside the enigmatic boy and it sent rays of brightness and happiness across the space, making everything glow. He didn’t smile much but I confess myself a tad dazed and my heart missing a beat when he did. For a raving lunatic he was, that smile was miraculous… and achingly beautiful. Even I thought so – and I didn’t even like him. He fascinated and scared me, but I didn’t like him. I would have liked to see less of him. Only, Hugo cared nothing for what I liked. He had a strange habit of appearing right near me when I was about to do something questionable.

Just like in that moment. As it might have been expected, my harsh words had zero effect on the stubborn little punk. He barely moved, yet those unsettling blue gems were incredibly alive in his face. Without even bothering to react to my desperate attempt at getting rid of him, he kept looking at me for a long, quiet moment, and I had a stomach-churning feeling that he was reading me.

“Going out to snog my cousin Louis some?” he suddenly blurted out without a warning – and what did I tell you about that boy being a bloody psychic?! Jesus, Hugh… But the horrible thing was – I couldn’t lie to him. I couldn’t look at that pale freckled face and into those bottomless blue ponds and lie because I just knew he’d be able to call me out on it… and it simply felt… _wrong_ and… oh, I don’t know how it made me feel! He was just bloody annoying, wasn’t he?!

“What’s it to you?!” I barked. “You should learn how to mind your own business, Hugh. Off to bed with you, or you’ll force my hand to take away some more house points though Merlin knows we haven’t got many to spare!”

“We’ve got none to spare… again,” he informed me, and if that was not the worst attempt to look sheepish in the history of wizard-kind, please feel free to fuck me backwards. He looked kind of insanely proud instead.

“Hugo!” I groaned in a reprimanding tone because – seriously?! Not only have we not won a single House cup ever since this honourable, unlucky institution welcomed Hugo in its midst, but he kept losing us every single point we ever earned. _Every.Single.One._ We had none. Again. “How on earth…?!”

“I left the flame on too high and went out of the Potions lab,” he confessed without bothering to explain in detail what kind of a lunacy he was cooking up again. “I was, uhm, busy with something and the results looked perfect, so I went out and I tested the sample on… never mind… and then I remembered I had the rest of the batch still on and… I kind of managed to muffle the explosion and I started fixing it. I guess it would have been all right… only, Peeves got the worst of it and his reaction… uh, it must affect the poltergeists differently, I really need to look in that… Anyway, when he tried to smooch Filch in the Great Hall, the whole thing came out…”

See, that’s Hugo for you, right there! Almost made me throw up my dinner with a mental image of Peeves and Filch smooching… _smooching_! Oh, dear heaven, this colourful idiot nearly made me forget why I was crawling around the castle in the middle of the bloody night!

“Save your excuses for McGonagall, freckly,” I told him because that was the closest thing to an insult I dared call him. It’s pretty accurate, since his face is sprayed with a galaxy of golden freckles – and if someone twisted my arm to the point of breaking I might be willing to confess I love freckles of all kinds. So it wasn’t really an insult. But it sounded like one and I was happy with that.

“I don’t have time to hang out and listen to your mad ramblings,” I all but dove for the door. “I have rounds to make,” I finally thought of something that was not a direct lie. “You know how to get yourself in bed, so do it, Hugh. It’s time. When I come back I don’t want to see you here any longer, are we clear?”

I was in too much of a hurry to really wait for his answer but when I caught a dreamy _“Oh, you won’t”_ before the door closed behind me, I really should have known better.

I had to be careful – Prefect or not, once all the Gryffindor students were accounted for, I had no proper reason to be out of bed myself. Luckily, I had planned on going early so an unfortunate delay in the menacing form of Hugo Weasley only meant that I was going to be on time, and not actually late. _If_ there weren’t going to be any more obstacles on my way to the Astronomy tower. And once I arrived there, I couldn’t really believe how smoothly it all went – I didn’t encounter a single soul and Louis Weasley was already there, waiting for me.

“You came,” he said in that sultry, velvet-like voice he had, but the sweet smile he offered me had no reflection in his hungry eyes.

He was so beautiful with those sparkling blue eyes and lustrous blond hair I nearly regressed to shameless drooling.

“Yes…” I finally managed, even my voice sounding dazed, and when he gave me another smile, that one was nothing short of predatory.

“Come here,” he said quietly. “Closer,” he added, when I moved a bit too slow on my wobbly legs. “C’mon, Malfoy… Scorpius, is it?... I don’t bite… I’m not my father, you know...”

Well, as far as anyone knew his father, Bill Weasley, who was himself bitten by a werewolf in the Battle of Hogwarts, didn’t _actually_ bite either, but Louis could have had an inside knowledge about that… The very thought of this boy having a bit of werewolf inside was strangely exhilarating.

And when he pulled me closer as soon as I came within his reach, there was no doubt in my mind there was something savage dwelling inside of Louis Weasley – werewolf or Veela, not that it mattered much when he wrapped his arms around me, closed his eyes and inhaled my scent again.

“Oh, yes…” he whispered. “You smell delicious… Scorpius…”

That was the last thing he said to me before his mouth found mine and those warm, luscious lips pressed into my trembling ones. And I wasn’t ready. I’d fantasised about kissing him – and more, much more – for ages, but in my fantasies our kissing was always gentle, probing, slow – and not this force of nature pressing hungrily against my inexperienced mouth. My heart nearly clawed its way out of my chest with its frenzied pace, but it was just as much excitement as it was pure panic. Luckily, he turned us around and pressed me against the wall, or I would have collapsed on him, with the dizzying darkness nearly taking over me.

The cold of the Hogwarts wall brought me back to my senses and I knew I had to take back some control – I was a Malfoy, dammit, we were supposed to be in charge! So I dug my fingers into the warm, blond locks and a second later I heard him groan with pleasure. And that sound made all the difference. I could do this; I could play this game. Louis Weasley had me learning fast and I was determined it was going to be a good lesson. I’d been trying in vain to fight back, to kiss him as hard as he was kissing me, but now I relaxed, I opened my mouth and I allowed him access and when our tongues touched our moans wrapped around each other like a pair of battling serpents. I pushed my hips off the surface in desperate search of further contact, and one of his arms immediately wrapped around my arse as he slammed his body against mine.

“ _JesusMerlin_ , Malfoy… Scorpius…” he gasped but I was beyond pronouncing anything intelligible. I was having my brains snogged out by the prettiest, sexiest, most desirable boy in school and a single thought on my mind was: _“more”_ … I was aching for more. And I was going to get it with Louis Weasley. No more empty fantasies and unfulfilling embarrassing wet dreams, no more unfortunate hard-ons when I spotted the lovely boy joking around with his mates in the hallway – I was going to have the real thing this evening, even though I barely had a vague idea what the real thing was. I rolled my hips against the thigh he pressed between my legs, and I nearly fainted in the sudden surge of pleasure it gave me.

I heard a loud whimper and it took me a while before I realised that it came from me. _GodOhGod,_ since when did I sound so wanton and needy?! A breathless _“please”_ escaped me, making him growl and having a warm palm of his hand crawl onto the bulge in my pants. How I managed not embarrass myself in that very moment, I’ll never know.

“ _Fuckshityes_ … Louis…”

I didn’t actually say _“please fuck me until I stop breathing”_ – I was nowhere near coherent enough for that! – but the way I jumped at my chance to frantically rut against the palm of his hand must have given him the idea of how far gone I was.

“Aren’t you just the sexiest, randiest little prude…” he murmured in my ear as he pressed into me, and I felt his hard, hot mound pulsate against my hip. Fuck… just fuck… the very idea that I made him so… that I made Louis Weasley, the Head boy and the perfect boy everybody wanted, press me against the wall in a moonlit tower and pant sweet little obscenities in my ear… that very idea nearly had me spilling in my pants.

“God, you’re beautiful with that sex-scent all over you,” he whispered before his mouth found my neck, and I cried out loud in unbearable wave of lust washing over me. “We probably shouldn’t have…”

“Damn right you are, Mr. Weasley!” an angry cold voice barked behind us and all my blood seemed to have frozen on the spot. “You most certainly shouldn’t have!”

Holy shit on a stick… the Headmistress herself! Oh, how in the name of sweet fuck were we going to get out of this one?! We weren’t – and that was it!

“A Head Boy! After hours! With a fellow student, and judging by the difference in height, even a younger one, Mr. Weasley! How _dare_ you! Move this instant! I should very much like to see who your accomplice is! The audacity of your actions alone…”

I closed my eyes as if that would somehow be enough to stop me from facing my doom in the form of raging Headmistress McGonagall, and the only thing on my mind was, how very disappointed my father is going to be when I was going to show up at home in the middle of the school year, expelled and involved in a scandal with another boy… _with a Weasley boy_ of all things!

I felt Louis’s weight move away from me and every nerve in my body cringed in anticipation of McGonagall’s angry, accusing voice, but in that moment the ground trembled and from the surprised cries the Headmistress and my ill-fated lover gave, I realised something was happening.

I opened my eyes abruptly – only it felt as if I didn’t because everything continued to be black and invisible. When a narrow, smaller hand slipped into mine, it seemed merely like an illusion.

“Run, you idiot!” a voice whispered near my ear, and when the invisible hand pulled me behind, running was what I did. To be honest, I didn’t even care if I was going to break my neck on the steep stairs because that was still a preferable option from facing my enraged, disappointed father.

The darkness didn’t disappear well down the stairs, and only when I found myself at the bottom of the Astronomy tower, sprinting down the hallway towards the Gryffindor quarters, did my vision clear enough to take a look at my rescuer. And I nearly stopped dead in my track.

“Hugo!” I gasped, out of breath with wild pace of our escape – and a bit because it’s hard to run when you cock is still at half-mast. “What the hell?! I thought I told you to…”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Malfoy, brilliant time to go all formal on me!” he hissed, without even letting go of my hand. “You told me not to be _“there”_ – as in the Gryffindor common room – and I’m not, am I?! Hurry up, you silly blond twat! She didn’t see your face but if you’re going to linger here any longer that’s bound to change!”

And those words alone propelled me towards the safety of my dorm as if Fiendfyre was raging behind my back. Only when we were in the relative safety of the Gryffindor common room did it down on me what a lucky escape I’d just been granted! But perhaps it was only temporary? As soon as Louis spoke… And what about Louis?! How bad is his punishment going to be? Oh, what a night! What a mad, bad night! And the one person that seemed to have at least some of the answers was stretched along the couch in front of the fireplace, just a bit out of breath, and smiling like a lunatic.

“What have you got to smile for?!” I barked, and the pang of guilt that I felt while yelling at my saviour had really been a tiny one. I’m a Malfoy, I can’t help myself, what did you expect? We hardly ever see longer than the length of our nose… and our interests.

“It worked, didn’t it?” he said happily, and the way his blue eyes were shining – dangerously, sparkling with raw life – they could make one think he was on top of the world. Perhaps this was what he lived for, walking the edge of danger, escaping one calamity after another by the skin of his teeth, but I certainly didn’t! Some of us are _normal_ , you know!

“What worked?!” I poured all my frustration and misery on the one person that was there to take it. “As soon as your insane hex vaporises McGonagall is going to be all over Louis about what happened and with whom, and your cousin…”

“Is going to tell her nothing other than that he doesn’t remember a bloody thing,” Hugo interrupted me calmly. “Right about now he’s beginning to feel very confused, and I bet McGonagall will have him rushed to the hospital wing as soon as possible, if she hasn’t done it already. No one is going to blame him after the examination. Love potion is fairly unpredictable after all.”

“Love potion?! What love potion?!” Every hair on my head along with my voice was rising beyond my control, and it took a hissed _“Shut it, Malfoy, unless you want my sister on your case!”_ from Hugo to make me see the benefits of keeping our conversation a secret. Rose is lovely but a bit… er, temperamental… in a nesting Hungarian Horntail way. But I was nowhere near calm myself.

“I can’t believe you fed your cousin a love potion, Hugh!” I hissed, desperately trying to remember how the love potion worked. Wasn’t it supposed to work the way that you’d fall for the person who made it... or was that another potion…? Oh, bloody hell, I should have paid more attention to Professor Parkinson-Nott but at that time I found Felix Felicis so much more interesting.

“I didn’t feed my cousin anything,” he smirked, and his deadly smile took over. “You did.”

What the…

“I saw how desperate you were… you know, about Louis,” he shrugged. “And I thought you could use a little help. After all, it’s Louis’s last year at Hogwarts, you weren’t going to get another chance once he was gone. So I nicked the Amortentia you made in Parkinson-Nott’s class – I had to improve it a great deal not to poison poor Louis, you put way too much Moonstone dust in it! – and I mixed it with some Befuddlement Draught. I put it in the bottle identical to the one you keep your eau de cologne in and – voilà! I saw you get lucky right after I made a switch at the Quidditch practice. And – ” he lifts his finger up as if he’s a deranged scientist immensely proud of his monster work and totally uncaring how mad it makes him seem, “– here comes the good part:  It couldn’t have worked on anyone else but Louis, he’s got enough of a beast inside him to have a very keen sense of smell.”

Now, anyone _sane_ probably doesn’t find it hard to believe that I was just… staring. Like an idiot I was. I didn’t even have words for this disaster of epic proportions. So, not only Louis didn’t find me attractive without the love potion but he probably wouldn’t even remember hitting it off with me the next morning. And we had such lovely chemistry! Oh, that was _it_! _That was bloody well it!_ I was going to off this meddling little wanker if it was the last thing I did! How dare he?!

Completely unaware of my lethal intentions the skinny redhead stretched his arms above his head and smiled dreamily into the empty air in front of him.

“Of course I had to go and see for myself if it had worked. And it would have been perfect if it wasn’t for that little explosive incident earlier. A love-smitten Peeves is not something you encounter every day, and I think it’s made McGonagall extra vigilant. As soon as I got in the tower and saw her head toward you, I knew I was going to have to improvise. I was really lucky, I would have hated to strike the lovely lady with a hex of any kind, and from behind of all things! But that Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder must have been there in the corner since the days of our fathers – it seemed a bit congealed. Heaven-sent, I’m telling you…”

I literally saw red. I couldn’t even transfer my anger into using my wand, I just jumped him. Someone as skinny as this should rightfully break once the entire weight of my body plus some acceleration landed on him with full force, but he barely let out a surprised huff. In the next moment his long arms folded around me, as if he was making sure I didn’t slip off him, and he smiled a lopsided grin straight into my furious face.

“Malfoy,” he murmured, those ice-crystal eyes only an inch from my face, and the amusement in them was grating on my every nerve. “Such temper… who would have said…”

“I hate you!” I hissed and tried to deliver as many punches as I could into the hard, bony body underneath me. I would have given my inheritance at that moment to be able to erase that condescending smile from the freckled face. I wanted to punch his lights out, I wanted to hurt him, I wanted to make him understand how much he’d hurt, humiliated, and infuriated me. For all my frustration and pure wrath, I only managed to hit him once, perhaps twice properly – and to this day I can’t be sure if he simply didn’t let me. Then his large narrow palms with those long, delicate fingers intercepted my fists and closed around them, locking them in a surprisingly strong grip.

“What are you angry for?” he asked, blinking innocently. “I merely tried to help…”

“The fuck you did!” I barely managed to supress a howl, nowhere near ready to surrender my attempts to get back at him. “You did it because you’re fucking mental, because we’re just a giant rat lab to you, and you have zero concept of actually _hurting_ people, you dick! It’s all just a fucking game to you, isn’t it?!”

I barely managed to blink before he flipped us over and I found myself underneath him, with that steel frame of his pinning me down. Blue eyes were watching me like skies from above and in spite of my anger a part of me recognised that there was no malice in his face, just a sort of quiet misery, I’ve never seen before, mixed with determination I knew all too well. But I had no time for his feelings. I wasn’t ready to go down without a fight. Trying to get rid of him, I rolled my hips left and right to dislodge him, but those long merciless legs wrapped around mine and I was trapped with no chance to move.

“You bastard!” I attempted to shout, but he had already leaned down and locked his mouth around mine. Too late I recognised what was the treacherous fever I felt crawling up my body during our crazy, intense encounter. Mindless wrath my arse, this was _pure undiluted arousal_. I was a captive of Hugo Weasley and for some insane reason my body thought that was a splendid idea. I was achingly hard. In my rage, I have literally writhed myself against him within an inch of coming. And I still might have been alright… but that mouth... that deceptively innocent mouth…

“I said shut it…” he whispered with his lips around mine… but I lost it right about there. It came too close to a kiss for my befuddled body to recognise the difference. He might only have meant to shut me up; it might never have been called a kiss, but those ridiculously soft lips, tasting of fresh strawberries, and still shiny from our brief, wet contact, seemed to have as much of a mind of their own as mine did. They lingered above mine just a second too long after he broke off the contact, as if ready to intercept my foolishness again, and when their first warm breath teased my lips I was beyond thinking straight. I went right for it. I kissed Hugo Weasley. _Fiercely._

And it was everything a kiss with Louis wasn’t.

I didn’t really know what to expect but the biggest surprise was my own reaction. My whole body tensed and arched into his when I had another taste of the sweet, tender mouth, made for kissing. I mewled like a bitch in heat when his lips responded after a mere moment of hesitation, and he slowly tilted his head sideways to allow me better access. And when our tongues touched almost by accident, his breath caught as if in a surprise, and it went straight to my cock. At some point he let go of my hands and my fingers immediately sought refuge in his hair. It emanated a faint, utterly delicious smell of shampoo that reminded me of summer breeze, and I couldn’t help being in awe at how luxurious and warm the silken, lustrous locks felt under my fingers.

“Scorpius…” he whispered into my mouth when my fingers got tangled in his hair, and it sounded so helpless and – god, help me – so incredibly _right_ I couldn’t… I just _couldn’t_ _fucking_ _stop_... He put me in charge, he let me play at will, and I couldn’t get enough of the heady feeling. I sought out his tongue again, hungry to play with my new favourite toy, and a minute of playful massage of Hugo Weasley’s silken, decadent tongue had me stutter one broken _“fuck”_ after another straight into his mouth. I had no mind left to lose when wrapped my legs around his body in a hopeless attempt to bring him closer, and find release for the terrible tension making my balls burst with need.

And then one of his hands found its way under my arse, pressing my body into him so tightly nothing could come between us, and it was that sense of ultimate unity that proved my undoing. I didn’t even manage to free my cock, still painfully strained against the fabric of my school trousers. As soon as the whole length of my aching, throbbing shaft brushed against the solid hardness in his pants I had no way of turning back. He only rolled his hips into me once, perhaps twice – hard and with a helpless moan – and my arse shot forward and my cock exploded. I came all over myself with a desperate cry of surrender. With _Hugo.fucking.Weasley_ wrapped around me. Jesus… that was… Oh, fuck me and my dad, that was to die for…

I’ve barely returned to Planet Earth, when he gently entangled himself from around me and got up. He wouldn’t look at me, but I couldn’t take my eyes of him. There was the prettiest flush on his usually pale cheeks, and his eyes shone like blue diamonds. His mouth looked full and somewhat ravaged and totally delectable… and the bulge no 14-year-old should have in their pants was still there.

I felt so incredibly debauched and boneless at the same time that it never downed on me how awkward this could be. I just… I realised with a sudden pang in my chest that didn’t want him gone yet… not like this, not without a word.

“Hugo!” I called him as softly as I dared because he was already at the bottom of the stairs leading to the fourth-years’ dorms. He stopped in his tracks and looked at me – and every thought of what I was supposed to say to him left me. I’d never seen Hugo Weasley so… out in the open before. The freckled face was still the same, full of boyish innocence and wonder, but something glittering at the bottom of those deep, enchanting blue pools made me catch a glimpse of a man he was growing up to be – and I had a vague, dizzying thought that he was going to make a magnificent one.

“I did it because I like you,” he said simply in a calm, quiet voice, as if he didn’t care what impact his words made and what they implied. Before I could fully process what he was trying to say, he disappeared up the stairs and left me alone with my dazed thoughts.

Now, what do you say to a statement like that? I’ll tell you what: nothing. Not, if you’re a Malfoy. Because it simply doesn’t compute. He was younger – way too young to date – not to mention seven kinds of wrong and I… for fuck’s sake, I didn’t even _like_ him. He was my first sexual experience by pure chance, nothing more, I told myself stubbornly, and nothing more would ever come out of it. I was determined to make it so. And if I couldn’t stop myself from wanking every bloody night to the memory of crystal blue eyes, lustrous locks of silken, red hair wrapped around my fingers, and soft lips whispering my name against my skin, that was my own fucking problem. It was just… temporary, it was going to go away. It had to, eventually. It was only a question of time before I was going to forget my insane encounter Hugo Weasley. It was the best for both of us. As far as I was concerned, nothing ever happened. 

And Hugo seemed strangely on board with that. He threw his usual disinterested _“Hi, Malfoy”_ at me the next day as he floated by me, seemingly caught somewhere in the entangled web of his complex, colourful mind, and the pang of odd yearning I felt took me by surprise. But, really, it was just a small pang, I told myself quickly, just an echo of what might have been. And I should have really been glad that he didn’t take it seriously, shouldn’t I? Nothing had changed between us, had it? Well, perhaps it did, just a little bit. Not that he would notice. Or care. You see, I could no longer say I didn’t like him. I liked him… just fine. I just couldn’t tell him.

A welcome side-effect of that crazy day, however, was that I was no longer interested in Louis Weasley. Every time he looked at me – and look he did, far more often than before – his brow furrowed and his eyes got an intense, but slightly glazed feeling as if he knew there was some kind of a memory connected to me he was supposed to have, but it eluded him. Whatever, I no longer cared. I had other things to worry about.

Ravaged by teenage hormones as I was, I had barely noticed that it was only a good month or so until my O.W.L.s and Rose was more than happy to remind me of it since I came out of my crushing phase. She was determined that the three of us – Al and I included – were going to pass with flying colours, like it or not. Merlin and Morgana, she’d make any slave-driver cry with jealousy! Each day would have to have about 50 extra hours for the revising schedule she made us. Sleeping was for wimps! Why did I have to go to lunch? I had already eaten in the morning and that took long enough! Never mind my Quidditch practice, the names of the trolls who led the 16th century uprising were surely more important!

I don’t think she would have even let me go to Quidditch practice, to be honest; not, if it wasn’t for Hugo. From the very first day since Rose implemented her totalitarian revising regime, the lanky redhead appeared to have taken it upon himself to come to my rescue – every day, without a single miss – and I didn’t even have to ask. No matter how complex Rose’s repelling charms were, he seemed to have no problem finding us. He usually appeared in the room without as much as a knock on the door, startling Rose into squealing and scolding him loudly, and his casual, lopsided grin had the power to make me feel as if there was life beyond books and long-dead trolls after all.

“Get going, Malfoy, it is time,” he’d tell me matter-of-factly and I couldn’t clear my books away fast enough. There was freedom, flying, and fresh air on the other side of those words, and if Hugo could find the courage to stand up to his fierce sister… er, gulp, so could I. He made it look so easy. He seemed completely impervious to her solid arguments about the benefits of 12-hour-long revision; he’d just look at her unperturbed, and commented dryly: “One can only fit so much nonsense in their head, Rose. Yours is quite full already.” Which, of course, completely infuriated her.

Or this one – oh, I loved this one: “Oh, I totally agree, Rose! Books are important. Take this one, for example. Such old parchment burns wonderfully; it will keep the fire going for hours! If you care for a demonstration…” At this point we were, er, removed. Usually, more forcibly than not. Much to the chagrin of poor Al who had to stay behind. Suits him right for refusing to be a stereotypical Potter and deciding not to take on Quidditch.

I did not dare to giggle – well, at least not until there were two sets of firmly closed doors between me and my fuming best friends… But in the end I only had to glance at Hugo sideways, and that infectious grin got me every time.

“You really shouldn’t attempt to rile her up _every_ time,” I usually tried to squeeze some scolding between my hiccups of laughter, but he’d just give me his small, confident smile, and he’d shrug it off with something like: “Oh, it’s really no bother. She’s got Dad’s temper – it’s as easy as pie. I don’t mind doing it.”

Which was not at all what I had meant. But I’d long ago discovered that it was pointless to argue with Hugo Weasley; his logic was from another planet. And there was a small thing of owing him my freedom – and, very likely, my sanity along with it – so I didn’t really see any point in trying to make a case for Rose and her obsessive eagerness. I preferred walking next to him in amiable silence, but once we made it to the Quidditch pitch he never really seem to mind going our separate ways.

And that bothered me just a little. It wasn’t really a big deal. But… just… oh, I guess it was stupid. I knew he wasn’t ashamed to be seen with a Malfoy – the Potter-Weasley children were raised better than that – but it irritated me that I kept expecting… more between us. I mean, not like a love affair or something as insane as that, no, god forbid, I would have said no to that, loud and clear, but… after our… _experience_ I would expect him to want more… of me. You know, like friendship. Or… I don’t know. Oh, blast… Here was the only person that knew me intimately enough to know I looked like when I came – and he seemed to want… _not enough_ to do with me. It intrigued me… and vexed me… and I got just a bit angry.

So, when our team captain James Potter, possibly the most popular creature to ever attend Hogwarts, approached me after the training, clapped me on the back, howled _“Good job!”_ and proceeded to casually ask if I was planning on going to Hogsmeade that weekend and if perhaps I’d consider going with him – I only glanced a little bit in Hugo’s direction. I know he must have heard James – they probably did somewhere in Poland as well, Jamie is not, uh, a subtle person – but the pale freckled face displayed no immediate emotion. His eyes dropped to the ground and stubbornly stayed there as he merely turned around and quickly removed his training shirt, before swiftly heading for the showers.

And all I was left with was an eyeful of long, lean muscles moving gracefully under the creamy skin of his back, with a fiery snake of his plaited hair swinging between the countless galaxies of golden freckles, making his skin glitter like stardust. I swallowed thickly and turned around hastily, unable to get the enchanting image out of my head yet unwilling to ponder upon it. I realised I still owed Jamie my answer, so I quickly nodded in reply with all the enthusiasm I couldn’t really feel.

“I’d love to come,” I said as loudly as I dared without attracting unnecessary attention to my out-of-character behaviour. I inadvertently winced when I heard the door to the shower-room click. Hugo heard me. He must have. It was for the best. And that fucking heavy grip of misery and regret in my chest had better dissolve over time, I would leave it no other choice. I forced myself to focus on James, who had just shot me that lustrous, winning Potter smile, so I made the effort to smile back dutifully and then some, and I quickly told myself this was the best move ever.

James Potter with his jet black hair and honey-coloured eyes, loud and barely on the good side of obnoxious, was so _different_ in every possible way from his quiet, blue-eyed cousin that he was going to be a perfect distraction. I didn’t need Hugo’s attention to be happy. Why the hell would I, when I had the attention – and affection! – of the most popular boy in school?

I kept telling myself that through gritted teeth when Hugo didn’t show up the next day to save me from my tormenting revising marathon with Rose, but in the end I was so unnerved that I did the unthinkable: I stammered an apology that had no head or tail and I escaped in front of the very eyes of stunned Rose before she could recover her wits in the face of my audacity. When I finally located Hugo, not very far from our studying place, I wasn’t able to hold back:

“You didn’t come!” I barked at him, and the second the words were out I knew how petty I sounded. Not that I gave a fuck. Being a Malfoy, with arrogance as our core, default setting, definitely had its perks.

When he said nothing but just kept walking instead, I gave into the worst of my disappointment:

“I thought we were friends!”

“And I thought you had a boyfriend!” he exploded, and then lashed at me with unexpected bitterness: “Why don’t you let him _save_ you from good grades and successful, by-the-book life my sister would have you live?!”

I was too stunned to reply, but then he stopped dead in his tracks and looked me straight in the eye. It was just… hypnotic. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and I’m fairly sure I forgot how to breathe. When he spoke, his voice was laced with quiet, deadly determination:

“I’m done saving you from yourself, Malfoy. If you so desperately want to be someone’s toy, so be it.”

He really left me no choice, you see. He would have gone – he was already turning away – and if I’d let him, he’d never have known I still carried traces of his magic on the inside.

I pulled him back with a force I didn’t know I had. My lips sought out his before I knew what I was doing, and my heart hammered in my chest like a freight-train when I hungrily savoured that familiar addictive taste. I never knew how much I needed it – how much I _missed_ being kissed by Hugo Weasley – until I felt his mouth respond eagerly, and I heard that quiet, helpless mewl, that had all my blood headed south.

“Stop it,” he whispered but didn’t stop himself and I… I bloody well _couldn’t_.

“Stop using me,” he whispered breathlessly, and this time I did stop. What?! I wasn’t… I didn’t…

He pulled away from me and made a few steps backward as if he was determined to put some distance between us.

“I’m not…”

“You were never going to be serious with me, were you?” he said with just a tinge of sadness in his voice, and even though it sounded like a question, it was not, not really. It was a recognition of how things were between us, brutal and honest, and dreadfully accurate. And suddenly, I was dead ashamed of myself.

“You kissed me twice, Scorpius Malfoy, but you wouldn’t hold my hand,” he said quietly. “Not for everyone to see. I’m willing to be your friend… but I won’t be your dirty little secret. I refuse.”

He turned to leave and I should have done it louder… I should have called his name louder. But I only whispered it. _Hugo_ … He was right. I was, and would always remain, a bloody coward.

So I did the cowardly thing once again. I went to Hogsmeade that weekend with James Potter, and we returned to the castle holding hands. He invited me to the Astronomy Tower that very evening, and just before I let him kiss me, I focused on the tiny golden Weasley freckles sprayed across his nose. I could do this, I thought. I was wrong. I did the one stupid thing everyone did: I underestimated Hugo Weasley.


	2. James (more or less)

“Scorpius! Babe, are you even listening to me?”

Shit, I was doing it again, daydreaming and drifting away in the middle of a conversation I was having with my boyfriend that should have mattered to me most of all.

“Sorry, love,” I murmured, feeling genuinely apologetic, and vowing for the millionth time that I should try harder. “I guess Rose is working me too hard,” I mumbled in a way of apology – at least that wasn’t a lie! – and I determinately leaned in and pressed my most persuasive please-forgive-me kiss under his ear, the way I knew he loved it. After a blissful smile he gave me, I knew I was forgiven.

“Want me to have a word with her?” he wanted to know, but I was shaking my head before he even finished the question.

“No need to, really,” I said hastily. “She only means well… and it’s only one more week until the O.W.L.s, and then I’m a free man!”

The truth was, I had my reasons – actually, one, just one reason – but it was sadly quite a foolish one and thus unacceptable, so those I was so eager to state to James would have to do. I wasn’t _actually_ lying, and I regret to report that my moral standards those days were nothing to owl mother home about.

“Can’t wait,” James murmured, and when he snuggled up closer to me like a giant adorable puppy in a blatant attempt to capture my undivided attention, the regret and guilt hit me like a freight-train. My awesome boyfriend was a saint. And I was an idiot. What the fuck was even wrong with me?!

We could have been so great with James! I mean, we _were_ great, in so many ways. He was certainly a wonderful boyfriend, stuff of dreams and relationship goals, truly. Obviously he was popular and ruggedly handsome in the way that it could make the girls’ knees weak, but he was also protective and caring like only a true Potter could be – and he certainly knew what he was doing with that warm, sexy mouth and strong hands. He was… perfect. With him, I had everything: respect, admiration – even envy – and affection galore. Everything what a Malfoy could want and should crave, and then some. Seriously.

So why the hell I was so very much on edge, moody and disastrously distracted… and so… strangely wrecked and all over the place, is anyone’s guess. I just couldn’t pull it together. I couldn’t make it work. Though, god knows, I tried.

I put my best and fanciest robes on for James and spent hours deliberately looking out-of-the-bed attractive. I sat next to him during the meals and I laughed at his antics. I held his hand wherever we went and followed him to one abandoned refuge after another to make out some, hidden from the prying eyes. He was far more experienced than I was, but he seemed to enjoy teaching me what little he could in the overcrowded school, and I’d be a complete and utter liar if I said that I didn’t enjoy it. We haven’t actually… _done_ much. Not like with… never mind. Anyway, ever since “the love potion incident” the teachers seemed to watch the students like hawks, and it was near impossible to find an abandoned corner these days to snog properly and hastily try to relieve each other of some tension.

The problem was, it bothered him far more than it bothered me. He’s made it clear he was desperate to… do it, like, properly. And I’m utterly ashamed to say that the idea held far more anxiety for me than it did appeal. Something inside of me cringed at the very notion and thinking about it… thinking about going all the way with James Potter made me strangely dizzy – not in a good way – and nearly sick with panic. I could do the snogging, the mutual wanking and hand-jobs. I had simply closed my eyes and allowed myself the luxury of my most shameful, most private fantasy, and I’d come through just fine. Even if it meant that I had to swallow James’s gentle teasing that I was acting like a princess, having my eyes closed and such during snogging. Sadly, there was no other way for me. I had to, or I wouldn’t be able to… you know. Shit, how did I get myself into this!?

I liked… loved?… liked James, for fuck’s sake! I liked him well enough. It shouldn’t be so fucking hard to love him.

Because if we did it… like really _did it_ , you know – completely naked… exposed… and lying next to each other… And if I had to look into his eyes… his pretty, _honey-coloured_ eyes… I would be stripped of all my pretences and defences, and robbed of every lie I ever had. My skin prickled at the very wrongness of it and the flush of misery I felt was making me feel faint. But, of course, I was too much of a coward to tell him that. He’d already been planning on breaking the news that we were dating to our fathers – something neither of us was looking forward to – and he’d made all sort of plans for visiting each other during the holidays. And I, the idiot that I was, just swallowed thickly, smiled my brightest and pretended to get along with it. I would, when the time came, I knew that much. But for the moment I opted not to think about it too much.

Perhaps our, uhm… proper sexual experience could still be delayed for some time? After all, we’d only been together for barely a month at that point, surely there was no rush! But I wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever, I knew that much. Eventually, I would have to… with him. And it felt every bit like betrayal. Fuck me, if I knew why.

I hadn’t made any promises… to anyone. I was a free man, well, boy… The point was, I was free to date whomever I wanted to. Only I wasn’t, was I? I wasn’t dating whom I wanted to. But it would take a bloody Cruciatus to make me confess to that. I was too damn ashamed of the mess I made; of the mess I was. So I stubbornly kept to what I had, and could have, and equally obstinately tried to ignore the fact that I was miserable.

My first clue should really have been when the only time of the day that I nervously minded the clock was, when my Quidditch practice was due. Because without another word after our… uhm… _kissing incident_ , Hugo had resumed his routine of saving me from Rose’s clutches, and it was the highlight my day… for no bloody reason in particular. I swear my heart nearly jumped out of my chest the day after our… thing, when I saw him leaning against the door frame with his eyes on me. He gave me one of his tiny, barely visible smiles that somehow managed to light up my entire day, and said as if nothing had happened:

“C’mon, Malfoy, it’s time.”

And I know I should have said no. I should have finished it there and then, and I should have shown him I didn’t need him… not even as a friend. But to be honest, it never crossed my mind; not until much later, when I crawled in my bed at the Gryffindor dorm, still smiling like a goof. For some reason the fact that Hugo Weasley kept his word and still wanted to be friends, made me ecstatic. And yet there was no reason to, for fuck’s sake.

For the entire world to see, we were just a couple of team-mates walking together to the Quidditch practice, and we weren’t even particularly interesting, being silent most of the time and all. But we were walking side by side, our hands nearly touching, our knuckles only casually brushing against each other, and I couldn’t for the love of god explain why those moments felt so much more intimate that any passionate snogging session James and I engaged in. It was the only time of the day when I felt… myself, genuine, and free of all expectations.

While walking in silence by Hugo’s side, I inhaled the air of warmth and quiet confidence he radiated, and it made my skin prickly and my heart thump, turning me strangely charged and dazed at the same time. It felt almost as if I was rebelling against some kind of a self-imposed norm no one else knew about. It always left me feeling just a bit reckless and the kind of quiet, glowing happy I could not put into words even if someone put a wand to my head with malicious intent.

And because I was the world biggest idiot, it took me a while before I realised that it was those leisurely strolls to the Quidditch pitch that were fucking up my relationship with James. More often than not, I found myself drifting away, thinking about what the redhead could be busy with in the oddest of moments, and god forbid that I should spot him near while I was with James. The urge to _not_ hold James’s hand was overwhelming and completely irrational. It mortified me _every.single.time_ , and I usually resolved it by launching myself at my boyfriend, demanding to be snogged, just to overcome this, to make the guilt go away. But it had quite the opposite effect: it made me even more guilty to see a broad, smitten smile light up James’s face before he kissed the breath out of me, and I ended up feeling like the world’s biggest cheat. Every time when I emerged from James’s embrace it took me a while before I dared glancing in Hugo’s direction, and the pang of relief when I realised he was gone, was indistinguishable from shame and disappointment.

In short, I was a bloody mess. And people were beginning to notice.

“How come you’re always going to the training with my brother?” Rose unexpectedly shot at me a that very morning during our 2,5-minute bathroom break. I tried to mask how much she’d unsettled me by sifting aimlessly through the scrolls on my desk, frowning, as if I was looking for something, and when I thought I could trust myself to speak with my most impassive voice, I answered as casually as I could muster.

“He’s my team-mate, Rose, you know that.”

“But so is James, your _boyfriend_ ,” she immediately pointed to the weakness in my defence. “And yet he never picks you up; it’s always Hugo.”

You see, this is where being a Malfoy really sucks. Should one innocently stumble upon one of our sore spots, we immediately turn the worst kind of defensive.

“Oh, I don’t know, Rose!” I barked at her in an irritated voice. “Perhaps James is afraid coming near you, because you turn into such a wench when exams are concerned! Are you implying my boyfriend doesn’t care about me enough to risk your wrath?!”

“Oh, do shut up, you… _you infinite troll_ ,” she hissed at me, now genuinely pissed off. “You know I mean no such thing! One could spot from the moon James adores the bloody shoelaces on you – he’d had his eye on you for nearly a year before he made his move, hasn’t he?! But in all truth, I’m beginning to wonder if you feel the same about him! You’re never this… _excited_ about James, are you? Yet you’re a bloody nervous wreck before Hugo shows up, glancing at the clock every damn second! Admit it, it is a little _odd_ that…”

 “Oh, if it’s so bloody _odd_ , Rose, that a guy should have other _friends_ than his boyfriend, why don’t you ask Hugo why he keeps coming around?!” I shouted, making Al wince and cautiously move away to put some distance between himself and the glaring pair of lunatics we’d turned into.

“I did!” she spat, and from the way she pressed her mouth together I could guess it didn’t go down so well.

“And?” I wanted to know in a calmer voice, because now I was genuinely curious.

“Nothing,” she barked. “He just mocked me! He just gave me his smirking _“none of your business”_ look and then he said in his most sweet-bullshit voice that he was so bloody in love with you he couldn’t stay away. Evasive little punk! I wonder what he’s really hiding?! Imagine that the evil little brat had the audacity to ask me if I was jealous! _What.An.Idiot!_ I can’t believe we share the same parents!”

She rambled on, but I barely had any brain left to spare. It was certainly a good thing I was sitting down because my knees would have given up on me, surely. What the fuck, Hugo!? It was Al, and his random inclination to be foolishly goofy, that saved me from betraying the scrambled state of my mind at that moment.

“Well – are you? Jealous, I mean,” he asked Rose with an innocent blink – and spent the next half an hour nursing a gigantic swelling on his head where the massive book of “Monsters under your bed – myth or hygienic concern?” landed with a thump. But my mind was still all over the place. I doubt I remembered a single thing of what I was supposed to be learning and the letters just kept dancing in front of my eyes. Hugo was just… god, but he was mad! Who says that?! No bloody one person… but him. But why?! Was it really just a clever manoeuvre to divert Rose’s attention? Or was there a grain of truth somewhere in there? No, that… I… just, no.

Before I could sort my scattered thoughts into something coherent, I realised I was staring straight into the crystal blue eyes I kept seeing in my mind, and I kind of had to force myself to keep breathing. It was time. Hugo came to get me, like he did every other day – only this day, everything blurred into one and I had no concept of how late it was. And it only took him about a second of staring down my eyes to know that something was off. He frowned just a little and threw a long, scarily perusing look towards Rose, who was instantly overly occupied by fussing around Al, but since she had decency to look guilty all the same, he let it go with a shrug, and simply tilted his head in a way of an invitation.

“Coming?” was all he asked, and for once, my fingers were strangely clumsy in clearing the desk full of scrolls and papers. When I finally found myself walking by his side towards the Quidditch, I was far more on edge and agitated than usual.

“Did Rose go prying on you about us?” I finally blurted out when I could no longer stand the silence that never bothered me before.

“She did,” he confirmed, and I couldn’t believe how calm he was.

“And?” I wanted to know, even though I already knew what he told her. I guess I was just eager to hear it from his mouth – and maybe I was just a tiny bit hopeful for an explanation.

“Don’t worry, I threw her off scent,” he said nonchalantly. “I told her what she wanted to hear, and that always makes her suspicious when it’s coming from me,” he said with a small smile in the corner of his mouth. I finally allowed myself to exhale the tense, shaky breath I didn’t even know I was holding… and the tiniest speck of disappointment with it. I had my answer. It was just a sand-in-the-eyes manoeuvre.

But then I realised that he had stopped, and that we had arrived. I expected him to leave me with only a murmured _“See you later”_ just like he did every day, but he was just standing there, quietly looking at me instead, and I couldn’t help myself. I felt those blue pools of pure magic on me and they were like a pair of Sirens calling my name. I lifted my eyes up to meet his, and the prickly hot-and-cold feeling of heady excitement was back, stronger than ever.

“Rose would never suspect me of telling the truth,” he said gently, and I had to bite my lip not to have it quiver. I wanted to kiss him so badly it was painful.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t do this anymore,” I whispered instead, still locked in the blue of his orbs, and my heart broke when he nodded slowly:

“Perhaps.”

“But I can’t stop,” I blurted out, suddenly dead scared I had lost him, and this little precious thing we had. He was quiet for long, too long, and his silence was crushing my heart into a bloody mash. But then he spoke softly, and his voice was dark, just a bit lost and quietly miserable:

“I can’t stop either.”

And then he left. And I was just standing there, my cock at half mast, with my thoughts clenching around a single thought: that he was not ready to quit me, that I got to keep him around for another day. God, I was pathetic.

It took me for-fucking-ever to catch the Snitch that day. I honestly didn’t know whether I was turned up or down on my broom, and my eyes kept darting towards a lonely figure hovering in front of the hoops. But when the Snitch literally made a few loops around my head and I barely registered it, James had to put a stop on our practice to ask me if I was all right. I smiled feebly, said _“Sure, love, no problem here”,_ and I bravely pretended to catch the playful, encouraging kiss he blew me. Merlin, I was a bastard.

But at least our exchange sobered me to a point that I was determined to do my job. It still took me another hour to catch the elusive golden thing, but at least that time around, I was honestly trying. I must have missed an opportunity - or four - that would have brought me closer to Hugo Weasley, though. I had to keep my distance not to do anything foolish. Like, accidentally crash into him while chasing the Snitch and land on his mouth.

I kept as close as I possibly could to James during our dinner in the castle, and if it wasn’t for McGonagall, watching the tables like a hunting she-dragon, I’d probably end up in his lap. I was obsessed with the idea of throwing Rose off the track – because that particular Weasley was a proper bloodhound when she smelled guilt – and I was more determined than ever that I was going to make it work for James and I. I might have taken it a bit far, literally snatching food from James’s fingers for laughs, mouthing his fingers as I went, and watching his amber-brown eyes turn dark with lust. If I was less desperate, I probably would have realised that this kind of behaviour could only lead one way.

“You need to stop teasing me, love,” he whispered into my ear when desserts popped up, and I put the first spoonful of the strawberries with cream in my mouth.

“I don’t, actually,” I said recklessly in my playful voice. “You’re my boyfriend, I get to tease you all I like! It’s either that, or risk being declared rather boring for a boyfriend. I’m a Malfoy, I can’t have that!”

“You shouldn’t do it in front of all these people, though,” he murmured in my ear, his voice sexy and daring. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered and kissed me hungrily, and he only let go reluctantly when Flitwick almost chocked on his loud: _“Khm!”_

“Actually, I might have found a solution to that,” he continued smugly. “I happen to own a certain highly-valuable cloak with… _particular_ powers and when I owled Uncle Ron about my predicament in finding some privacy with my boyfriend, his knowledge of the school turned out to be quite helpful. Apparently, there is a very special room…”

Fuck. I finally figured out where this was going, and I realised that I’ve played myself into a corner quite spectacularly. The sudden rush of panic in my chest barely made me fit to breathe. It figured that of all people Hugo’s father, James’s godfather and his favourite uncle, would be the cause of my undoing. My luck was just rotten that way.

“I – I can’t tonight!” I stammered, desperate for a way out, a tiny delay, anything that would make this less imminent and real.

“I can’t tonight either,” James said with obvious regret in his voice. “I’ve got Hugo’s detention to supervise. Again. That clever little bastard is too mad for his own good! He’s stuck in detention so many times I’m beginning to suspect he’s found a way to enjoy it!”

I swear I could have just hugged him for the relief his words brought me. I did kiss him eventually, and of course, he interpreted my kiss entirely the wrong way, just the way he was meant to.

“But tomorrow night I’ve got no such obligations,” he glanced at me with a sexy, seductive smile, and I reckon anyone properly in love with he would have melted. But I just sat there, smiling stupidly. God, I was trapped. And so fucked.

“All right,” I finally squeaked because – what other way was there for me, really?

He kissed me even more passionately, and then walked me to the entrance of the Gryffindor quarters where we snogged some more. And only when the Fat Lady started squealing something about indecency, he left me there to fetch Hugo and I have no idea how I even managed a scrawny little smile when the kissed me goodbye: “See you tomorrow… can’t wait. Sleep tight, love…”

I crawled up the stairs into my bedroom, strangely numb, and only when all the curtains around my four-poster were carefully closed and all the silencing charms were in place, I allowed myself to fall apart. In spite of the warm night I was shaking and there was no point in trying to be reasonable.

_“I’m not going to hate it,”_ I told myself a million times, but it sounded more miserable and less convincing every time around.

_“Jamie would never make it bad for me, I’ll be… I’ll be fine,”_ I whispered to myself stubbornly, yet still afraid to close my eyes and risk seeing those other, beloved images I couldn’t afford to ponder upon. I’d never have that again, I might as well face it, and accept what I could have.

Only, I didn’t want it, did I? – and I couldn’t even figure out why. James had a Quidditch-made body of a god – I’d seen him naked times enough in the shower to know that – and I also knew half of the school would eat their wand for breakfast if they could swap places with me. I already knew he was protective and caring, and quite proud of his reputation of a good lover. Surely, he’d make it good for me.

_“I’ll enjoy it,”_ I tried arguing with myself one last time, but it was of no use. I was in need of comfort so badly, I finally gave into the temptation and closed my eyes, just like I did every other evening. And the comfort and the warmth, and the slow-pooling heat were all waiting for me there, the way they did every evening when I allowed myself to dream. Because this was the dark and beautiful realm of my stolen moments of intimacy, this was the kingdom of my precious memories of brilliant blue eyes up close and those tender, sweet lips stealing my breath away, whispering my name in quiet reverence, these were the moments I lived for, this was where I truly came alive.

I have no idea when I’d started it, but I was hard, and wanting and pushing into my own hand and thinking of Hugo’s summer scent and how it had poisoned me, so I would never love another boy’s musk again. I touched my mouth, tender from kissing another boy, and I thought of him, of Hugo… of those rosy, innocent lips worshipping mine… of the way his warm, moist breath teased the inside of my mouth… of how wonderfully slick and soft his tongue felt tasting me, playfully seducing me… of the hard, hot bulge pressing against mine, driving me crazy, heavy and desperate, and the sudden burst of mind-shattering orgasm tore through me like an earthquake: “Hugo, Hugh… Fuck…!”

I could no longer unhear myself, I could no longer pretend. I’ve always managed to avoid saying his name out loud, I was stubbornly desperate not to acknowledge my irrational obsession with the boy I didn’t want to have… Only, I did, and now it was out in the open, and I knew fuck what to do. I didn’t want to… oh, for fuck’s sake… I didn’t want to give myself to James, because it would only be fucking, and I didn’t want… I couldn’t… But I would.

I knew my fucked up self well enough to know that I didn’t have the courage to say no to James and to ask Hugo out instead. No. I didn’t. James was right and good and good enough, while Hugo was… Hugo was a bloody god of chaos and destruction, wasn’t he?! He certainly made a wreck out of me! He was too young, too unpredictable and… not for me.

I’d made my decision. I was convinced that I was resigned to my fate. To be honest, I felt kind of dead under the weight of my resolve, and I took that as a proof that this was it, that I’d finally moved past my unhealthy infatuation. That was, until in the afternoon I set my eyes on a tall, skinny boy with eyes of deepest sapphire blue, leaning against the doorframe, watching me steadily, and grinning shyly when our eyes met.

“C’mon, Malfoy, you don’t wanna be late,” he said, the way he did every day, and the heart-stopping pang in my chest crushed my numbness to bits, and my resolve with it. To this day I don’t know what devil possessed me. We were barely out of the door when I pulled him behind the corner, so we could no longer be observed from one of the castle windows, and I blurted out:   

“James wants to sleep with me.”

What the fuck was I even doing, telling him that?! His face went completely still and impassive, and his eyes dropped to the ground.

“He wants to do it now, as in – tonight,” I kept babbling, trying in vain to control the panic in my voice. “He’s got some cloak which does god-knows-what and he mentioned a room…”

At that point I simply ran out of air, too chocked to go on. It took him a while to react, but eventually he shrugged and spoke quietly:

“Congratulations, I suppose. The word is, he’s a very attentive lover. You could do a lot worse in a way of a boyfriend, I guess… And why _the fuck_ are you even telling me that?!”

He sounded just a bit desperate and certainly pissed off, and until it was out of my mouth, I didn’t even realise what I was about to confess:

“Because I don’t want it.”

His head shot up and the incredulous look in his eyes spoke volumes. I went hot and cold at the same time as I hurried to explain in a choked voice:

“I mean, it’s too soon, isn’t it? We’ve only been dating for, like, a month, not even, and I… he’s not…”

_He isn’t you._

I nearly said the words, and I had to bite my tongue not to blurt them out.

“So why don’t you tell him?” he wanted to know quietly, stubbornly. “James is pretty great. He’d never force you into anything against your will. He’d wait some… lots, even. He’d wait until you’re ready.”

_Because it doesn’t matter. Why won’t you understand?! Waiting won’t change anything! It won’t change the fact that he’ll never be the right one. He.Isn’t.Fucking.You!! He isn’t you._

But I could not say any of that, could I? I just kept staring in front of myself miserably, avoiding his eyes, cursing my stupid, infatuated tongue, and hoping feverishly that somehow, he’d understand. Until he did. Or didn’t. It didn’t matter. He took pity on me. His long fingers found their way underneath my chin and he turned my head towards him gently.

“Hey,” he said softy. “Don’t cry.”

Only then I realised that my vision was swimming with tears barely left unshed, and it took all the Malfoyness in me to hold back the silly, treacherous sobs.

“Don’t cry. We’ll fix it,” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss the moisture from my eyelashes… and I’d never seen a sight more beautiful than Hugo Weasley with crystal pearls of my tears on his lips.

“We’ll fix it,” he promised, and then he added in a resigned, miserable voice: “You’re not the only coward here.”

I kissed him then. I kissed Hugo Weasley for the third time because I couldn’t resist him, and because I am, and would always remain, the most selfish creature alive.

His lips responded and came alive under my own; and the taste of my own tears was an aphrodisiac beyond comparison. It was just a moment of weakness, but before he pulled away, I was weak in the knees, and ready to beg. James never _ever_ tasted this good.

“Don’t,” he said quietly, feverishly. “None of that. I can’t take it.”

And he left me there, half ecstatic and completely mortified, but strangely hopeful.

When I sat next to James at the dinner table, I immediately noticed that his mood was off.

“My invisibility cloak is gone,” he mumbled grumpily, when I gave him a brief peck on the cheek. “I swear it was still in my suitcase last night and now it’s gone. As in – not there, vanished, can’t find the damn thing.”

“Your… what?! Fuck me backwards,” I blurted out, and that uncharacteristic outburst elicited a small sour smile from James.

“That was the plan, lovely,” he murmured, and kissed me in the corner of my mouth. “Only now I don’t know if it’s still feasible,” he sighed. “We can’t be seen running around the castle after hours just like that. McGonagall would have a hefty litter of furry kneazles if she found out.”

And I just sat there and tried not to look too impressed. Whatever one thought of Hugo’s methods, you got to give it to the boy: he was fucking brilliant. How the hell did he do it?! He didn’t have access to the sixth-year’s dorms, he barely had time to come back to the castle! Of course, it was entirely possible that this was not Hugo’s doing. James could have simply misplaced the cloak and not realise it. Only, I didn’t think it was very likely. Hugo was Hugo, a force of nature to be reckoned with. It would be a little too much of a coincidence that he promised me to _“fix it”_ – and James would suddenly lose the one tool he needed to do this. But it turned out I was rejoicing a little too quickly.

When I leaned in to offer him a comforting _“babe, don’t be upset”_ kiss as a good boyfriend would, James captured my lips instead, hungrily, and just on the wrong side of desperate, and he whispered in my ear:

“Fuck it! We’re doing it anyway. I want this too much. Been wanting to since… oh, for fucking ever. I need you, Scorpius. Will you risk it for me?”

Merlin… Those Potter/Weasleys will be the end of me! The flair for reckless risk and school-expelling adventure was just as strong with this Potter as it was with his legendary father. And I just sat there, once again barely able to hear myself breathe through the rush of panic through my ears. God, did he ever have me cornered! But he was still giving me a chance, wasn’t he?! I could totally say no, tell him that I was too scared of getting caught – and that would be it! He would understand, surely, even Hugo had said so, and this once, I could save myself.

But then I looked into those honey-coloured eyes, clouded with lust and filled with pleading – and I nodded quietly, with a lump in my throat. Now why the fuck did I have to nod?! Merlin, was there _ever_ a bigger coward born in the history of wizardkind?! How come I cared so much about looking good and right in front of James while I continued to show Hugo only the worst of me?!

Sooner or later, James was bound to see through my pretence and the thin layer of pretty coating covering the terrible person that I was underneath. When that time came, he would hex me to another galaxy and congratulate himself on dodging the bullet! And Hugo would _have_ to get sick of my shallowness and selfishness at some point, and he’d turn away from me as well. It would suit me right! Bastards like me should have to end up all alone!

But my inner self-deprecating reflection was somewhat dampened by the beautiful smile James shot me. Oh, Lord, forgive me, but I was making him happy, wasn’t I? That’s got to count for something. Even if it meant being dead-frightened and unleashing the Hugo-weapon upon my unsuspecting boyfriend to protect my true interests. I was a true Malfoy, and my distinguished grandfather could kindly get fucked. We were all about over-polished, unblemished surfaces, slick actions we couldn’t get blamed for and shady contacts that did all our dirty work. Yep, Malfoy to the bone, red scarf or not.

I cannot tell you to this day, how we managed to sneak onto the seventh floor, but the level of our vigilance would probably have us hired with any guerrilla force on the planet. Dammit, when I got there, I was literally tired of all the times I had to take a swift peek behind the corner and run like a crup with rabies to the next armour to hide behind. I almost fell into one, I think it must have been a passage of sorts. And waiting for James – we couldn’t be seen together, of course not, any spy-book for toddlers would teach you that! – had been the longest five minutes of my life. My toes were tingling with the desire to flee, and my heart was hammering like a captured dragon in my chest – and not only from the effort of climbing all those stairs. It was wrong for every reason I could think of, to be there – and yet I persisted. Such was my desire to prove myself worthy to James. God, was I seven kinds of fucked up or what?!

And perhaps, at the very bottom of it, there was just a tiny speck of curiosity if Hugo could get me out of this one. Because I could see no way out once James appeared, panting, flushed, and lovely. Merlin, what was wrong with me that I could not love him?! My pants should have dropped down to my knees of their own accord at the sight of him, because the oldest Potter child was without a shadow of a doubt a delicious sight to behold! Yet there was nothing. Not even a stirring in my teenage loins, usually working overtime and then some. Nothing, but a gnawing sense of panic and a sickening sense of doom.

“Merlin, if it was anyone but you, precious!” he panted, but there was a big smile on his face, and I could tell he was enjoying this all the way. Oh, Morgana on a flying spoon, why did I always pick the crazy ones?! I guess I should have stayed from the freckly lot if I wanted boring and normal. I tried to smile but I’m not sure what expression my face twisted into because I most definitely didn’t feel like smiling. But it didn’t matter one bit to him. He was enthusiastic enough for both of us, and if his fierce kiss was anything to go by, the thrill of danger only poured oil on the fire of his excitement. Nothing short of a miracle could save me now.

“Now, to do this right….”

He pulled out a folded parchment from his pocket and read the instruction once again. Then he closed his eyes and started walking back and forth, while I tried to still my breathing by focusing on a hideous tapestry of a funny looking wizard, who appeared to be busy trying to teach the trolls how to dance… or getting clubbed over the head senseless, I couldn’t tell which.

“That’s funny,” James said in a minute, his brow frowning. “It doesn’t appear to be working. Uncle Ron’s instructions clearly says _“…walk past the wall three times, focusing on what you need and the room, known as The room of the requirement, should open…”_ We’re clearly in the right place, following the instruction to the letter, and yet…”

“Could your uncle be pulling your leg?” I asked with a choked voice, trying to mask how much my heart had soared. “He’s behind half of the pranks in Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Jamie, perhaps he was just…”

“No,” my boyfriend said firmly, with such conviction in his voice that I had no doubt of the level of trust Ron Weasley inspired in his godson. “He’d never do that to me. I told him I was serious about you…”

And that, in case you were wondering, broke my heart just a little. I was James’s boyfriend, he had every reason to believe I wanted this as much as he did, and yet, I was standing here rejoicing the fact that his plans for us were about to fail. I wasn’t heartless, you see, I was only a bastard extraordinaire.

“There must be something else…” he murmured, and I finally felt brave enough to take a peek at the letter across his shoulder. But dear God, that was some messy handwriting! At the Muggle studies we learned about two great wars and how the enemy Muggles had a device called Enigma to encrypt their messages – well, for all intents and purposes Ron Weasley was a one-person-Enigma! If the enemy had him, I doubt our side could win! One had a better chance to decipher the early Mesopotamian scribes than this mess. Yet, James seemed to have no problem reading it. As I was merely admiring the unintelligible curves, it took me a while before I spotted the tiny asterisk at the end of the paragraph James appeared to be reading. It took me even longer to find the little matching pair.

“What about this bit?” I pointed out to James. “It seems to go with this, but it’s such a horrifying scribble… Merlin, Jamie, how can you make heads or tails out of this?!”

“Yeah, Uncle Ron’s got a thing for abbreviations and unfinished sentences,” he murmured. “You’re right. This bit seems to fit with that sentence. How could I miss that?”

He read it and then his face turned incredulous: _“It won’t open, however, if someone is already in it…”_ he read out loud, and the confusion and frustration on his face were just painful.

“Who else could know about this, you think?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know.

“Well, my dad didn’t say a word about this room, so I think it’s a safe bet Al doesn’t know – and he’d never tell Lily, he’s so very protective of her. But Uncle Ron… he’d sooner Obliviate himself than tell Rose, he’s already nervous like fuck with all the guys owling her during the holidays… So that leaves...”

I could identify the exact moment when it dawned on him.

“That little shit!”

I winced. The anger in James’s voice was murderous, and suddenly my heart raced for different reasons entirely.

“That has his mark all over it! I bet he’s got my cloak as well, that little bastard!” James raged on. “I’ve got enough of his bullshit. This time, I’m going to have the little wanker expelled! I’m going to…”

I could think of no other way. I kissed him. I closed my eyes the way I always did, and I thought of pale skin and a proximity of a million freckles and those auburn, silken eyelashes tickling my cheeks when they closed over the mesmerising blue eyes, and I kissed James fiercely, with all the passion I held for another boy.

“Merlin…” James said in a shaky voice when I finally let go, sounding out of breath and befuddled. “What the fuck was that, Scorp…? I… Jesus, I didn’t know you had it in you…”

“Forget about your cousin,” I whispered feverishly. “We’ll get another chance. Perhaps he needs it for something, someone… just like us. Don’t…”

“I’d like to meet the idiot who’d hit it off with that crazy fucker,” James smirks in the little break between our kisses, and the fact that I bit his lip in shock, only seemed to excite him. “Scrawny, freckled, evil little shit. Who’d ever want that?!”

Well, call me crazy and straight out insane, but I did. God, help me, I did. More than I could say. A genuine pang of pain shot through me at James’s words. Why did everyone think Hugo had nothing to give?! _“Including you,”_ my inner voice whispered. _“That’s why you won’t be seen with him. He’s not good enough, he’s not glamorous like the rest of them. And he knows it.”_

Merlin, I sure hoped Hugo couldn’t hear James’s raging about. I had no idea how the mysterious room operated, what was possible and what not, but I was hoping he was nowhere near to hear those hurtful, venomous words. James didn’t mean it, of course he didn’t, I tried to tell myself. He was just angry and Hugo _did_ make it hard for people to love him. Most people. But not for me.

I needed to get Hugo out of there; out of the mess he wouldn’t be in if it wasn’t for me in the first place. It appeared… oh, god, but this was stupid… but it really seemed that I cared about Hugo enough for my Malfoyian instinct to kick in. We always protect our own. I would not see Hugo harmed, whatever the price. I just had to take James out of there and offer him something he could not refuse. Which probably meant… I had to fuck him to distract him. And an insane giggle almost escaped me at the thought that my first proper sexual experience will be for love after all, in a most fucked up way imaginable. I was indeed a master-mind in screwing up my own life.

“Let’s get out of here,” I murmured, not letting up the fierceness of my kissing. “Let’s find another place. Where did you usually take your boyfriends?”

“Prefects’ bathroom,” he confessed reluctantly. “But I wasn’t going to take you there. You’re too classy for that,” he added almost apologetically.

Oh, my dear poor Jamie… As the last of the once-distinguished line of the Malfoys, I might have been raised and groomed the old-fashioned way to represent a class of my own, but frankly, they didn’t come much worse than I. I was definitely not worth the respect this lovely Potter child was willing to show me.

“It’ll do,” I decided, because I would have accepted even if he proposed Greenhouse Three, with mandrakes in it. Anything, to get him out of here. “Let’s just get out of here.”

And back we were to stealth-and-Peeves-avoidance drill. At some point I thought I felt a slight breeze slam past me, and I jumped to the bloody ceiling, thinking that I’d been found out, perhaps by one of the ghosts – but it was nothing, there was nothing, and I chalked it up to my frayed nerves.

There shouldn’t be anyone in the Prefects’ bathroom at this time, I knew. It was way, _way_ too late, as the schedule of the Prefects that had the right to use it, closed about eleven in the evening. After what felt like forever, I arrived to the Prefects’ bathroom first. I tried to still my breath as I waited for James to catch up with me, but my hands were trembling so badly they were probably causing tornadoes somewhere in the American Midwest.

“ _I will be alright,”_ I tried telling myself again, as if that had ever worked before.

_“It’s just sex.”_ I had to take the plunge some time, right? Nope, still nothing in the way of comfort. I was still a wreck.

_“I’m doing this for Hugo… because he would do it for me.”_ And that one, shockingly, worked like a charm. My breathing evened out, and about the same measure of despair and determination flooded me. I was a boy on the mission: I needed to protect Hugo. I, of course, was neglecting an essential bit again: this was Hugo. Being safe was not even in his vocabulary.

I forced myself to smile when James finally caught up with me, looking equal parts exhilarated and petrified.

“God fucking finally,” I mumbled, because by that time I was already thinking if I survived that crazy night, I’d live to be as old as Nicholas Flamel. At the very least.

“Peeves,” he explained curtly. “I barely managed to stay out of his sight. Ready?”

I just nodded. The feeling of sheer panic was back but I didn’t come this far to back off now.

_Locked._ The door was locked and none of the known passwords worked.

“ _GodFuckingDamnShitOnAStick_ , is this fucking day cursed or what?!” James hissed so viciously that I jumped. Merlin, that infamous Potter-Weasley temper... seriously. My chances of a coronary must have quadrupled since I started meddling with the explosive lot.

_“Alohamora!”_ I finally whispered, just to appease James, not really expecting it to work because stars were clearly _not_ on our side that night. And imagine my surprise when it did. The door clicked, and I took a big gulp of air and bravely pushed it open. The sight that met me, nearly melted my knees.

There was a river of candles lit up all around the bathroom, and Hugo Weasley was lying on a soft white towel next to the bathtub, his naked body illuminated by the candles, and – if the even rise and fall of his chest was anything to go by – he was sleeping like a baby. The fingers of one of his hands were still submerged in water almost playfully, and the candlelight that reflected of his pale skin made him look as if he was made of priceless marble, like the gods of old. The few drops of water that had yet to dry gave his pale complexion pearly appearance, and he… he was heavenly.

There was something completely innocent yet incredibly tempting about him, lying there like obscure treasure, and my throat went dry as I allowed my eyes to roam around his body hungrily, taking in all the detail. I couldn’t take my eyes off the gentle curve of his spine, of the glowing red hair spilled around him like halo, those obnoxiously long eyelashes creating an illusion of peace, and the jolt of arousal hit me so unexpectedly, I had to bite my lip not to moan out his name. I wanted to be right there, on the towel with him, curved around his body, with my arms wrapped around his body, touching that silken, pearly skin, soaking up all that warmth and subtle beauty no one could see but me.

When I felt James push through the door behind me, the sudden wave of protectiveness and possessiveness I felt was beyond words. My hand shot up and his _“What the fuck…?”_ was smothered on his mouth. I grabbed him by the hand and silently lead him outside. Only when the door clicked behind us, I dared to exhale the shaky breath I was holding.

“What _the fuck_ was that?!” James hissed.

“Well… Hugo, obviously,” I said as calmly as I could. “It looks as if he’s been here for a while, though there’s no use of asking how did he even get in – I’m sure it’s quite beyond our moral principles. But you don’t want to wake him up. We’re not supposed to be seen together at this time of night, remember? But if he’s _here_ , he cannot be _there_ , in that… room of requirement, was it? At least not at the same time. So, it’s a good thing we found him. You would have taken your revenge on him for nothing.”

“Oh, I’m sure he had it coming, tenfold, for one or the other fit of his craziness,” James just shrugged, clearly not too concerned about wronging his mischievous cousin. “But who, then…?” James’s brow furrowed but I didn’t want him to think too thoroughly in that direction. This son of Harry Potter was anything but dumb and he would have eventually come to the right conclusion.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could muster. “But not him. It could have been anyone.  Who says your Uncle Ron is the only one with knowledge about that room?”

For a moment there he looked so crushed I felt a rush of pity and shame flood through me, but I was a Malfoy, and manipulation is practically our family trade. We excel at it, effortlessly, and if I had to use it to protect Hugo, there was no question in my mind that I would. None. I might have decided that Hugo was no good for me because… oh, fuck me into the ground, I couldn’t even think of why anymore… but something inside of me cringed at the thought of seeing him hurt. He was mine. Well, no, he wasn’t, not really – it’s not like I _wanted_ him, right? – but he was mine to protect. Oh, fuck my brain; I couldn’t reason with it when it got all reptile and protective!

“Fuck this evening,” James said sulkily. “I was so very much looking forward to this!”

“Well, perhaps…” I choked a little on what I was about to propose, but I saw no other way. “Perhaps we could try another day…”

“Scorpius, babe… I don’t know if I can take another disappointment like this one,” James sighed, and pulled me into his embrace. “Fuck this old-fashioned fortress of a school! Couldn’t they make a… I’ve got it!”

His face suddenly shone in happy excitement, and my stomach lurched at the thought of what was coming.

“It’s a Hogsmeade weekend this week! You know, to celebrate the end of your O.W.L.s. The owner of the Hog’s Head is actually an old family friend…”

“Ewww!” I protested loudly. Surely not the Hog’s Head Inn! Forgive me, but if I was going to have my first full-on, not-quite-voluntary sexual experience, I’d rather it didn’t include Doxy-bite infection!

“Sorry, love!” James apologized hastily. “I know you’re way classier than that, but The Three Broomsticks are out of the question, we’d get no privacy at all, the whole world and their mother will be there, you know that. I promise I’ll make sure it’s all clean, even if I have to clean it myself, and I _swear_ I’ll make it up to you.”

He bit his lip temptingly, and my rational brain recognised how alluring and attractive he looked with those honey-coloured eyes, messy jet-black hair and full lips. But what I really said a forced, breathless _“Yes… all right, then”_   to, was a dusting of freckles across his nose. I was going to need something to hold on to. I had made my choice.

~

When Hugo came to pick me up the next day, I only wanted to know one thing:

“How?”

“Which part?” he asked plainly, without pretence, but his pretty mouth turned upwards into a small, naughty smile. He was kind of adorable when he was not busy being an evil mastermind.

“Everything!” I demanded. I’ve been dying to find out since the night before, and I deliberately set us on a longer, more abandoned path towards the Quidditch pitch to make sure I got the entire story.

“Well, pretty easy, actually,” he shrugged. “Hardly any brains required. I hid a Dungbomb in Jeremy Boot’s pocket because he was the first one to leave the training and I made sure it went off as soon as he reached the Gryffindor tower. I was nowhere near when the whole Gryffindor sixth-year dorms had to be evacuated and thoroughly aired. And you know, there’s this really handy spell called _“Accio!”_ – it would even deliver a desired item to you through an open window.”

He was right: it was so simple I felt dumb just for not figuring that bit out myself!

“You sure you want to know the rest?” he said smugly, and there was a small glitter of naughtiness and joy in those magical blue eyes, that made him look utterly eatable. “You seem disappointed. I don’t know if I should share all my secrets – everything seems more clever when shrouded in mystery…”

“Don’t you dare! You must! I was barely able to sleep last night, thinking it all over in my head!” I insisted.

Well, that was… _partially_ true. I wasn’t able to sleep very well last night, but it wasn’t because of my insatiable curiosity. You see, there was this angelic image of a certain sleeping boy, bathing in warm candlelight… covered with watery diamonds… dreaming, calling to me… that wouldn’t let me rest. But he didn’t need to know that, and I shouldn’t have been stupid enough to start thinking about it – the pinkish tinge to my cheeks was a tell-tale sign of how broken and obsessed my imagination had become. 

“I don’t know…” he said playfully, almost teasingly, and I bated my eyelashes at him like a princess, happily taking my part in this silly game we’d engaged in:

“Pretty pleeeeease!”

This time he actually laughed out loud and it went through me like a jolt of lighting. I forgot how magical his warm, genuine laughter was, how very charming and addictive. I forgot how beautiful it turned him. I just stopped dead in my track and stared, mesmerised, and positively _craving_ … I didn’t even know what. That he would look at me? Let me know it was all for me? He did glance at me eventually, his laughter slowly simmering away at the edges, and then his arm extended in slow motion, hesitantly, as if he had no power to hold it back, and his long fingers fixed a loose lock of my hair behind my ear. And I couldn’t resist.

I turned my head sideways, just enough for my lips to brush against his fingers, and when I heard his breath hitch, my brain switched off entirely. My mouth was acting on its own, and it closed around those long freckled fingers gently, trapping them inside. My tongue swept along their length hungrily, savouring their taste and their texture. I closed my eyes and sucked on them as if I needed it, and a short, breathless _“Scorpius…”_ later I was ready to lose myself in the sensation. I really should have known better.

A second later he pulled me closer, and the strong, bony fingers gripped my face with angry strength. But I didn’t give a rat’s arse about his anger. As soon that incredible scent of his hit me from up close, it was like a red flag of lust was waved in front of a charging bull of my raving libido. I had no control left whatsoever. A helpless, frustrated groan that rolled out of my mouth was completely shameless, and immediately followed by a frantic, pleading: “Fuck, please… Hugo…”

“What…” he hissed in my ear, “…do you want from me, Scorpius Malfoy? Because you clearly don’t want anything _with_ me…”

“Don’t know,” I gasped, not even trying to deny the truth, while my arms were already winding around his narrow hips and pulling him close. I couldn’t fucking stand the thought of being away from him any longer. When his guard faltered and I was finally able to lean into him, a whispered, shaky confession escaped me before I could stop it:

“But I can’t fucking _stop_ wanting it…”

Whatever I was trying to say ended up in a loud unabashed moan, because his lovely, crazy-wonderful mouth was suddenly on mine, greedy and hurried, speaking plainly of the need we both shared… and my every last thought fizzled out. Merlin, how could someone taste so divine… like a promise and surrender all in one… so much better and more tempting every fucking time?! It was probably illegal to taste this good. And the gentle probing and thoroughly obscene tongue-fucking he was so keen on doing was simply maddening. I couldn’t get enough. Did I teach him that? The thought of being the one and only person to teach Hugo Weasley how to kiss held immense appeal for me.

And for once, I _didn’t.fucking.care_ one little bit if we were about to be seen, or found out, or whatever. I just wanted to… do this… not to stop… to have this… to kiss and be kissed until I was out of breath and shaking, and he finally understood that he was mine… even if I couldn’t have him. I wanted nothing better than to lie down onto the soft, velvet green grass of the lawn stretching behind Hogwarts and have my brains slowly fucked out by the one person that felt right for me… even if he was completely wrong.

“How many times… do I have to say _“no”_ to you… before you finally got it?” he panted between sloppy, bruising kisses, that made my knees soft, and I sank my fingers into his warm, silken hair and pulled on it to punish him for the evil, _wrong_ intention of saying _“no”_ to me.

“Just… stop saying it, then…” I begged, unable to keep away from the sweet torture of his mouth. “I can’t hear you… I won’t. It’s all your fucking fault… you put a spell on me… and now I can’t…”

He suddenly pulled away from me forcefully, and my frustration was so great, I actually felt angry tears pooling in my eyes.

“You have to fix it!” I hissed, not knowing what I even wanted to say. It was just… it was his fucking fault that I was so broken, wanting him all the time, when I clearly shouldn’t!

But now his blue eyes were incredulous, and lit up like temples of the god of anger. Just by standing there, panting, with bruised and utterly delectable mouth he sealed the fate of my wanking fantasies for years to come.

“How the hell do you want me to _fix it_?! It’s not like I can go back in time and not… do what we did,” he said, sounding pissed off and flustered. “Do you think this is fun for me?! Stealing from James, waiting in that fucking creepy old room for an hour just to hear James say what a little shit I was, and how he couldn’t think of any idiot who’d hit it off with the _scrawny, freckled, crazy fucker_ that I am – and knowing that he’s right because _you_ didn’t say a fucking _word_ to oppose him!”

There was savage anger and such genuine hurt in his voice, that it was like someone poured a bucket of hot lava on my head. I just stood there, feeling like I shouldn’t have even been born, because I was the world most selfish, cruellest wanker to have ever walked the earth.

“Hugo…” I started in a shaky voice, not even knowing what I wanted to say.

“No matter,” he cut me short. “James is not a problem. I can take him on. I can do this forever and a day,” he said roughly, his eyes sparkling with shrewd danger that made my skin break into goosebumps. “I can block James every fucking time because this is child’s play to me. I walked right past him – and you – in the hallway, wearing his fucking cloak, and I went straight to the one place he always brings his conquests to, because I know this fucking school, and I know him so well. I happen to like James. He’s my cousin and at least he’s honest. I don’t have a problem with James thinking I’m a worthless piece of shit no one wants. But I do have a problem with _his boyfriend_ , showing me _every.fucking.sign_ in the book, that he’s wrong!”

I should have apologised and I should have run away. I should have gone to James and let him fuck me, because that was the only way to let him know that I was sorry without saying what a git I was. And should have never looked at Hugo again. He was… we were bad for each other.

Only, I was nowhere near sane and selfless enough to do any of that. I was more than a little out of my mind, without a fucking clue what to do, and the one selfish thing on my mind was that I couldn’t lose him.

“James invited me to Hogsmeade this weekend,” I blurted out miserably, and once those first words were out, the rest simply poured out of me. “He plans to rent a room at the Hog’s Head and he wants me… us to… you know. But I don’t want to. Not in that god-awful place, not the first time, not… like that… _with him_.”

I finally mustered the courage to look at him, and his eyes were on me, as big as the moon, and the little sparks of blue in them were spell-binding. I found them completely irresistible.

“Then how…?” he asked in a voice that was barely audible. “Then how do you want your first time to be, Scorpius?”

I was quiet for the longest time, and when the time seemed to have come to a halt, finally the most tender, frightened flutter of my heart made it to my mouth in a shaky whisper:

“With you. I want it to be with you. Anywhere. Anytime.”

_“JesusMerlinfuck!”_ he exhaled, running trembling fingers through his glossy, silken hair. He turned away from me abruptly, but he didn’t leave. Silence seemed to drag between us for hours. 

“How come you’re such an impossible bastard!?” he said, but instead of anger, there was a strange sort of despair in it. “Why don’t you simply… James is… Jesus, you’re fucked up… And so am I.”

He left, and left me. Crushed. But those last words, those very last words, also gave me the tiniest shimmer of hope. Somehow I knew Hugo Weasley was not done with me yet.

~

I never made it to the Quidditch pitch that day. In fact, I only remembered that I was supposed to be there when James asked me at the dinner where I had been. I could almost literally see Rose’s ears stand to attention. I could not afford to fuck this up. It was hard enough to keep my eyes from constantly darting in Hugo's direction – if I was caught lying…

“I wasn’t feeling well,” I said quietly, and I’m fairly sure that the way I looked – pale and lifeless – didn’t give James any grounds to doubt me. “I was halfway on my way there when I decided to ask Hugo to take me back to the castle instead... I was really feeling off, you see… Perhaps it was something I ate… and those bloody O.W.L.s – I’m turning into a proper wreck because of them. If I don’t pass…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you’ll pass!” Rose barked unexpectedly, and there was something like… regret, perhaps? – lingering at the edge of her voice. “It’s just that I want us all to pass really well… and perhaps I’ve been working you too hard…” – yep, definitely regret! – “… but it’s only two more days and then it’s all over.”

“Take good care of yourself, babe,” James murmured and kissed my temple. “I need you well and functional this weekend, you know, for… reasons.”

He smiled blissfully, in that sexy way that had all the girls dropping their panties for him, but that cute smile and those words had quite an opposite effect on me. They literally sent shivers down my spine, and not in a good way. He had me cornered and there was nowhere to run but towards him. I was so fucked.

“No Quidditch practice for you tomorrow,” he suddenly decided, shocking even Rose. “I can’t have my boyfriend collapsing of exhaustion. Aunt Hermione would club me around the ears if she found out, and surely, she’d blame the two hours of Quidditch rather than the 3568 million hours of revisions,” he looked at Rose pointedly, and she had the good grace to look ashamed. “We, the Potters, have a reputation of being caring to uphold, you know,” he kissed me softly on the cheek, and closed his eyes, purring like a kitten: “Mmmm, babe, you smell incredible…”

And while I was being showered with all that adoration and lust only hormones of an extremely virile teenage half-Weasley can produce, the solitary thought on my ungrateful mind was: _Great._ _No Hugo._

There seemed to be no light at the end of the depressive tunnel I was in. And then…

“James, are you coming to Hugo’s birthday party on Saturday?” Rose wanted to know between bites of her Shepherd’s pie, and just the mention of his name was enough to have my heart soaring. He had a birthday?! I didn’t even know he had it; he never said anything... He’ll be 15, same age as I. _Not that young anymore,_ my treacherous brain whispered. I couldn’t really afford to focus on that thought, my brain turned into spaghetti when it went that way. Hey, should I get him a present? What I should I get him?

“You could totally come, you know,” I hear Rose chatter somewhere in the background. “Bring Scorp along. For some reason that mad idiot of my brother wants to make it in Hog’s Head, not The Three Broomsticks. He might have been banned from The Three Broomstick for all I know..."

Hog's Head?! Now, _that_ could _not_ have been a coincidence! 

I risked a glance in his direction – any my heart nearly stopped flat. There was that evil blond slut Lorcan Scamander sitting next to Hugo, leaning into him – _way too into him!_ – and while he seemed heavily immersed into a conversation with _my_ redhead, his hand casually toyed with the few strands of hair that escaped from Hugo’s plait. Hugo must have noticed my eyes on him because he looked straight at me, and shot a small, sad smile in my direction – before taking his eyes off me and smiling fully at Lorcan. And I literally saw red.

My arse was halfway up from the bench already, with my muscles ready to launch myself into them, when I heard James say in incredulous, scandalized voice:

“Well, fuck me backwards! Looks like our favourite Resident Evil has an admirer after all.”

 And I sat down. I couldn’t afford to draw any unnecessary attention to myself but I felt nauseated and just _wrong_ all over. How could he do that to me?! He was _mine_. Mine, mine, mine. And Malfoys don’t share.

“And Lorcan Scamander of all boys,” James whistled appreciatively. “Total slut, of course, but that boy’s got standards. He only goes for the best of them. The only thing he’s not picky about is gender – he dates them left and right, doesn’t have a preference at all. Weren’t you interested a while ago, Rose? Ouch…mmmmmwhamh!”

A word of advice, my lovelies: _Do.not.provoke_ Rose Weasley, like, _ever_. Especially not, when she’s eating, and _most certainly_ not with a purpose of embarrassing her! Well, at least I didn’t have to kiss James anymore that evening. Poor sod didn’t appear to have any mouth left at all, but a giant duck beak in its place instead. Jesus Almighty… well, about our weekend plans… 

“That was Lysander, you idiot. Totally different. He’s taking me to Hogsmeade this weekend,” Rose said cheerfully. “And I suggest you shut it. Don’t ruin it for Hugo.”

And for some reason she looked at me pointedly, before smiling angelically straight into James’s wide eyes: “If you’re good I’ll take it off by the next meal. Otherwise you’re welcome to all the fish in Hogwarts lake. I hear they’re quite tasty. Properly prepared, that is.”

I would have laughed and stayed around to make James the butt of our jokes with the rest of them, but frankly, I couldn’t even focus long enough to smile. My eyes kept darting in the direction of Hugo and that abominable bastard Lorcan, and when I heard the dreamy blond laugh softly – _“Is that so?”,_ and playfully tug at the strands of red hair I could no longer keep still.

“Jamie, babe… this is awkward,” I forced myself to chuckle, and I dutifully kissed his cheek – or what was left of it. “I hope you’re a good boy and you manage to persuade Rose to reverse the damage or I shall be very bored in performing my boyfriend duties. But you’re going to have to forgive me tonight. I’m knackered and I’m still feeling a little under the weather. See you in the morning? Was that a quack, gorgeous?”

And I patted him on his back and left my place at the Gryffindor table against the roars of laughter. I forgot I still had a bowl of ice cream in my hands. _Of course I did._ That’s what I told Lorcan a moment later, when it landed on his head and I apologised profusely for tripping over and… well, you know, accidents happen.

“A word,” I hissed at Hugo when the worst of the commotion was focused on cleaning Lorcan, and to be honest, I never doubted for a moment he’d come. Some things in the Universe needed to stay in balance. It would be safer to do that in the Gryffindor quarters, but I didn’t really trust myself to go there – I’d probably turn around halfway up and come to fetch him. So I waited for him at the exit to a Great Hall, concealed in a most conveniently positioned alcove, praying to gods of old and new that I wouldn’t get spotted through my sloppy concealment charm – I had no hope of managing that one properly, it was a bitch and I was way too disconcerted. He had to come alone; he had to! Honestly, minutes dragged like years. He finally showed up, and – thank fuck for small wonders! – he was alone.

And for the first time I had a startling realisation: he was turning out to be beautiful. Seriously handsome. As pretty as Al, even. Definitely at least as manly as James. And a combination of that could turn my cock into solid rock. There was already a definition of muscles in his shoulders that were going to be magnificent one day, and he had one of those perfect male figures that had a way of filling out and making him the envy of the entire male population: long legs, broad shoulders, long lean neck with just enough muscle to fall beautifully into those carved clavicles I was dying to lick. And that face…

Suddenly I felt a lump in my throat. My weird obsession with Hugo Weasley was perhaps not as inexplicable and ungrounded as I imagined it to be. Give it a year or so, and they’d be swarming all over him like rats! I couldn’t have that… god help me, I couldn’t fucking have that.

I pulled him into my hiding place without a word of warning, and I went straight for his mouth. This was quickly becoming an unhealthy habit of ours, but it was my signature, my statement of ownership above all else. Besides, he was certain to break it off anyway. He did, eventually. But not before he indulged us both, and allowed me access to his pliant, welcoming mouth. After a minute or so of plundering the heavenly softness and sucking on his sloppy, elusive tongue, I was breathless and hopelessly hard.

“What are you doing with him?!” I hissed when he finally pushed me away, as I knew he would.

“ _He_ has a name, as you very well know, and I’m going to Hogsmeade with him this weekend.”

“You can’t! Why?! You can’t!” Look, I know I was behaving irrationally, but nothing about his obsession I had with Hugo ever came near rational thought. I didn’t want him to go. He wasn’t allowed!

“Because he asked me – and you didn’t,” he replied softly, but there was as much defiance as there was misery in those beloved blue pools I desperately wanted for myself.

He pushed past me decisively against my crumbling _“Don’t…”_ , but just before he left, he turned around and said in a strange voice: “You should come to my birthday party. It’ll be fun… I promise.”

It was not like I was going to stay away, was I? But between James’s expectations and Hugo’s plans I had a sickening feeling this trip to Hogsmeade would be something I wasn’t likely to forget. Perhaps one could say that I wasn’t going to leave quite the boy I was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boy this has turned into a far more messy story than I expected. :P It wouldn't stay simple no matter how much I tried. This is not the full chapter I was hoping to write, but between some crazy time at work and getting ready for my holiday, it was virtually impossible to come up with more. I'll be gone for a week now and I won't be able to write at the seaside, but I'll pick it up when I return in case someone cares. :)


	3. In between

To say that my fingers were trembling slightly while I was attempting to close the buttons on my shirt that Saturday would be understatement of the century. It took me about as many tries to push a button through a tiny hole as it would a blind crup trying to put a Quaffle through a hoop in a Quidditch match. I had been feeling – and acting – off for days, but with O.W.L.s around – and now behind me – I had no problems chalking it up to my fraying nerves. But to be honest, the O.W.L.s were the last thing on my mind, up until the morning I could no longer deny their existence. Of course, it was impossible to avoid Rose’s constant chippering about them, but I simply refused to care. Until it was the O.W.L.s that gave me a tiny ray of hope. 

You see, up until that morning I had been a ball of misery and restless, feverish nervousness. I was terrified of my future prospects in the coming weekend and to this day, I don’t know what scared me more: the promise of “fun”, courtesy of Hugo – which could mean anything from confetti singing “Happy birthday” to leaving the Earth a flattened, barren planet – or a certainty that I will be crossing that final boundary to manhood with a wonderful, lovely boy I could find no fault to – and no love for, no matter how hard I tried.

Both options were equally frightening, and I didn’t even get to choose – I was getting both or none at all. I knew what I was looking at. Hugo, the clever bastard, had really done a number on me. When he issued that invitation that clearly had the undertones of a challenge, if not worse, that was really his way of saying: _Don’t go. Don’t go and you’ll be safe from me and there will be hope for us._ All in one. God, I had half a mind to poison myself to avoid making that decision.

But I had to go, you see. I was expected. I was James’s boyfriend and surely, he would protect me. He was, after all, a Potter, and gorgeous… and funny, popular… _and wrong, all the way wrong,_ my treacherous mind whispered at me. Surely, James was a better choice, I tried to reason with my hormone-crazed body. But it was all in vain. It seemed as if my heart didn’t even live on the same planet as my rational brain did. I only had to take one look at that git Lorcan, smiling blissfully at Hugo, taking his place near him, daring closer every day, and my fingers snapped into a fist until my nails were leaving half-moon prints on the palms of my hands. I hated the cocky blond bastard with passion, only because he dared… and I didn’t. I wanted to hex the twat, and snatch Hugo from him, and let myself be hurt and rejected by my lovely redhead all over again – if only I could have a moment to fall apart inside his arms, and drink guilty love and droplets of hope from those sweet, tender lips that had no business belonging to anyone but me.

My eyes darted towards him throughout every meal we had together, hoping for a single look – until it came. One, always just one, as if it was a transgression to look at me. Just a shy glance, followed by quickly downcast eyes, and a stubborn press of lips – and I was lost for the day, melted into a puddle of hopeless yearning. It was making me ill that he wasn’t mine.

But then the morning of the O.W.L.s came, and I didn’t think I was ready at all. That morning, Hugo wasn’t at the table, and that just added to my misery. I barely touched any food, in spite of Rose’s urging to eat whatever I could hold because I was going to need my strength. What did she know! She was a Weasley, and the lot of them would be found stuffing food down their hollow legs even on their deathbeds. When I could no longer take her nervous, incessant projections regarding the knowledge we’d be required to demonstrate, I mumbled an empty excuse and dragged myself out of the Great Hall, feeling aimless and utterly apathetic.

I think I felt him, or perhaps inhaled his wonderful scent, before I saw him. Just a whisper of a silencing spell and he pulled me into the very same alcove I used as my ambush spot earlier in the week. In the semi-darkness his mouth found mine and he gave it to me, gave me what I was so hopelessly yearning for, good and proper. It was the most desperate kiss in the history of human kind – and it just wouldn’t end at that. A million of the hungry, needy, dirty kisses frantically exchanged left me gasping for breath and stupidly happy. There was no stopping us once we let ourselves go.

Perhaps he didn’t mean to give me more than a kiss, but god help us, there we were, trying to savour and devour each other before it all ended in some calamity or the other. His hands were cupping my face chastely, his touch on my cheeks as tender and innocent as fairy wings, but what his ungodly, delicious mouth continued to do with mine, was anything but. He caught my lower lip between those strong white teeth and bit tenderly, knowing perfectly well that the edge of pain was going to make me mewl helplessly. He was such a tease. He slipped his tongue into my mouth playfully, invitingly, and ran it slowly along the tender flesh between my lips and my teeth and I couldn’t imagine something as simple as that could bring me close to begging. And the way that soft tongue returned into my mouth only to delve deeper, to plunder more, to play with mine… it turned my knees to liquid, and my legs nearly bucked underneath me.

But it wasn’t enough for me. I’ve been without him for too long. My hands slowly sneaked onto his arse, and I pulled him closer. I waited for him, already solid, and absolutely fucking desperate for more. I must have surprised him, because his hips moved into mine pliantly, and there it was: that hot, hard bulge between his legs, a proof of how things were between us, and it was _ohmygodfuckinggorgeous_ and real and _so much more_ than an elusive memory I furiously wanked to every night.

“Don’t…” he gasped, but it ended in a quiet whimper when I rolled my hips into him, and I nearly fainted in a shocking sensation of savage pleasure and pure need that shot through me. A shaky, pleading _“JesusfuckHugoplease…”_ was all I was capable of and it was as loud, careless and indecent as they came. If this was half as good for him as it was for me, I knew he wasn’t going to stop. This… us… it felt too good, too fucking good. After days of denial, he was here for me, and couldn’t… wouldn’t stop. I was on fire and in love.

“Why do you always take more than I’m willing to give?!” he hissed into my mouth feverishly, but he didn’t let go, so it didn’t matter. Whatever was left of his resistance, didn’t matter, his words didn’t matter. We were consumed by the same madness and it only took another bout of frantic kissing for him to finally surrender. I knew the exact moment when it happened. Those silken auburn eyelashes closed over the blue pools of magic, and his fingers sank into my hair, pulling forcefully, nearly making me come with their obvious lack of control.

“Why do you have to taste so good?” he gasped desperately, as if he was barely aware he was talking to me. “Merlin, Scorp… I want to make you come again…” he breathed his quiet confession into the sensitive skin of my neck, before that soft tongue began to lick a slow trail around the shell of my ear. “You’re _so_ fucking beautiful when you come… I can’t get you out of my mind…”

I pulled his mouth onto mine then, and bit his lip, hard, to stop myself from begging, but he must have known that by that time we were too far gone to stop. He no longer attempted to move away, but I didn’t want to risk it; I held him as close as I could hope to have him. Hot puffs of his breath teased the tiny cuts on my lips made by his teeth in a most sensual way, and those long silken eyelashes painted a trail of desire against my cheeks when we kissed. My hands slowly closed caressed his gorgeous round buns, bringing him closer, craving for more friction, dying for a chance to have our cocks rub against each other in a savage, sloppy rhythm I found too fucking delicious and completely irresistible.

“Hugo… Hugh, please… don’t stop… please…”

I found myself begging after all, but I didn’t care about silly little things like pride and dignity, as long as he gave me what I craved so badly.

“Want you… for myself…” I somehow managed to squeeze between a loud _“oh, god, please”_ and a wanton, feverish string of profanities and need.

“Not outside this place, you don’t,” he whispered. “But I want you all the time. I’ve been dreaming about it… every night since… You’re driving me crazy Scorpius Malfoy… day… and night… I can’t stop thinking about you… You keep hurting me, but I can’t stop hoping, dreaming, wanting… I want to have you… so much and all to myself… I want to feel you underneath me again, and do things to you… with you… but you’re not there… not for me… so I have to… alone…”

That was all it took. The image of Hugo lying on his bed, those long fingers strolling down that pearly skin, touching, caressing, exploring… thinking of me, was too much for my adolescent self-control. Without as much as a warning, I shot my load with a hopeless, unmuffled cry, “Hugo!!! Hugh… oh, fuck…”, and I kept spilling over the fireworks going off in my ears. Oh, _JesusMerlinChrist_ … what…the fuck… what… fucking force… was that?!

“Scorp… please…” he breathed, and it was kind of desperate and helpless, before he suddenly went very still. He still held me close for a while, silent, warm and incredibly right, while I tried to pick up the pieces of myself that seemed scattered all across the Universe of happy. I came to my senses all too soon. When I realised my head was resting in the curve of his neck, against his racing pulse, I never wanted to leave. I should have stayed. I should have kept holding onto him, I should have kept him, I should have taken care of him. But instead, some greedy devil made me lift my head up to look into his eyes up close, because I loved them so, even though I couldn’t hope to see more than a hint of the heavenly blue in the semi-darkness. He leaned into me then, one last time.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and kissed me sweetly, sadly and goodbye.

“I only meant it… for luck,” he said quietly, and left.   

I was… crazy that day. I just fucking _raced_ through my O.W.L.s. When during the written part of the exam my frantic hand stopped writing the answers I didn’t even know I had, I thought of long, auburn eyelashes painting trails down my cheek and a warm whisper of confession: _“I can’t stop thinking about you…”_ – and I smiled like a loony and grabbed my quill with a fresh wave of elation. Not only did I transfigure a vase into a beautiful peacock at McGonagall’s exam, I made him bow and coo at her for food. She was beaming like a 100-candle chandelier. And I beat Rose at Charms! I’d never beaten Rose at anything but Quidditch before, but at Charms we were always neck to neck – and this time I beat her! Granted, I’ve done it by half a point only, and I always had a feeling that the Charms Assistant Professor Patil might have had a tiny crush on me, but I was unstoppable that day. Hugo kissed me – and more, oh, god, yes, yes! – for luck, and I was going to have that fucking luck if I had to import it or steal it from someone else!

I don’t know what I was thinking. Not much, I suppose. Because, you see, I somehow failed to realise that nothing had changed. I still didn’t have Hugo. And it didn’t dawn on me until that evening. Much too late.

It was like a stake through the heart when I felt James’s arm around my shoulders in the Great Hall, and I realised I never thought of him, not for one bloody minute of that crazy day. Not even to consider how to tell him that we were finished.

“It’s all behind you now, babe,” he whispered in my ear. “Excited for Saturday?”

I would have done it, you know. I would have broken up with James there and then if I didn’t look up that moment and saw them. I saw Lorcan lean his head on Hugo’s shoulder playfully, and Hugo smiled at him indulgently before he pushed him away gently, and said: “Don’t be such a kneazle, Scamander. Before I know it, you’ll settle in my lap, purring, and I’ll be covered in hairs.”

“Brute,” the blond pouted. “You should at least call me by my name if we’re to be Hogsmeade… mates.” The look that blond slut gave my redhead was… completely unacceptable. He might as well have undressed him and licked him from head to toe. My fingernails were back to making the half-moons in the palms of my hands and I just wanted to _murder_ the bastard, plain and simple.

“All right,” Hugo said softly. “I suppose it’s fair. Lorcan the kneazle. It suits you,” he smiled teasingly, and pressed a finger in the middle of his chest as if he was labelling him.

And it was that sexy smile, not meant for me, that broke me. It ruined everything. I could barely register anything over the rush of blood in my ears. At that moment I realised that even if I did break up with James there was absolutely no guarantee I could win Hugo’s heart. Not after the way I’d behaved. I had no idea what went on in his mind. Did he really think me so cold and calculating I’d never leave James for him? The very idea was heartbreaking… but really: have I ever given him any cause to think differently? That must have been it. It was why he was flirting with Lorcan so shamelessly – he never thought I’d give him a chance. I seemed to have finally missed my last train.

 _“…you’re not there… not for me,”_ I heard his voice whisper in my head, and it finally hit me with painful clarity that those words could have another meaning as well. He already gave up on me. What happened in the morning… he had probably only meant to give me a good luck kiss, he had said something of the sort himself – and I ruined it, being selfish again. I realised I didn’t even know if he… you know… _finished_ or if it was once again all for me. Selfish, selfish, _fucking selfish_. Merlin, this was mortifying... I played as dirty as one could, knowing full well that it would come to haunt me one day – and at that moment it did. I might have just witnessed Hugo moving past me, leaving me behind. The very thought was incomprehensible and too painful to grasp. I couldn’t even think in that direction. I couldn’t think. Period. I was heartbroken and completely lost.

“Scorpius!”

James’s voice startled me, and brought me back from Planet Pain to reality where only a minute ago, I was nearly levitating with joy, but now everything seemed slightly askew, terrible, and seven kinds of _wrong,_ as if the glass around my happiness cracked and left everything looking terribly distorted. I might have felt a bit sick at how wrong it all was. All my spirit left me and I sat there like a deflated balloon. It was my drill as a Malfoy – _“Always be courteous, Scorpius; being rude is unforgivable!”_ – that barely managed to force me into giving a scatter-brained answer to James.

“Sorry… what was that? Sorry,” I rubbed my eyes, hard, hoping against hope to scrub some feeling into my limp, lifeless body. “I’m dead tired, and just… what was that?”

He was a Potter and as such, he didn’t have one truly bad bone in his body. Instead of being resentful for once again not being able to capture my attention, he closed his arms around me protectively, murmuring _“poor darling”_ in my hair, and I was so desperate for some comfort, I didn’t mind hiding in his embrace. It smelled… pleasant, but odd and… _not quite right_ in there, but it was all I had, and I fought with the last bits of strength that I had against the hot tears pooling in my eyes. I wanted Hugo, desperately so. And now I was too late. I felt like a child who woke up and realised that he’d overslept Christmas, and there would be none for him this year.

“We’ll make you better soon,” James whispered into my ear soothingly. “You’re such a fragile little darling, aren’t you? But give it a few nights’ rest and perhaps some fresh air, and you’ll be right as rain before you know it. We’ll go fly some tomorrow. And I’ve got everything nearly ready for Saturday, you’ll see. Hugo’s birthday party in the Hog’s Head is actually a perfect distraction. I already told him we were going. While they’ll be getting sloshed downstairs, I’ve got plans for us, love…”

His words absolutely fucking terrified me; but I was too numb and lethargic to even react. When he whispered _“It’ll be glorious!”_ , I simply repeated numbly _“Glorious… yes”_ , and that seemed to do it for him. He beamed and tried to steal a proper kiss for me, and it was only Flitwick’s loud _“Ahem, Mr. Potter!”_ that saved me from the intimacy I couldn’t really handle.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Jamie!” Rose barked unexpectedly. “Seriously, you bottomless jar of horny hormones! He’s half dead, can’t you see?! Off to the dorm you go, Scorp, you’re ruining my appetite with that sour face. And have a good rest, you look wrecked,” she said unexpectedly gently. “You did brilliantly today, at least the part that I was able see. We… I was so proud of you.”

And perhaps I only imagined, but I thought her eyes darted towards her brother for a second, and something fluttered to life in my chest. Perhaps he still cared…

“And you, James Sirius Potter,” Rose rolled on in what must have sounded like her best grandma Molly voice – the lovely lady was a bit of a legend among the parents and other professional intimidators and I suspected Rose was more than a little bit like her. “Be a half-decent boyfriend for once and escort poor Scorp here to the dorms; he looks like might have to be levitated up the stairs.”

“Merlin, Rosie, can’t you let a bloke eat in peace?” James murmured sourly, but his rebellion was immediately met by a furious, sarcastic jab:

“The only thing you’re eating is poor Scorp’s neck, you insatiable… cannibalistic adolescent! Go and eat people at another table! Scorp here needs rest – or shall I ask someone else to take him, _hm_?”

I didn’t understand the challenge in her raised eyebrow, nor the urgency with which James got up from the table and practically dragged me away:

“No… I… Oh, have it your way, you evil ginger dictator! I’ve got this. Come, love, let’s get you to bed.”

But I didn’t move. I couldn’t, not yet. I stared across the table intently, feverishly willing Hugo to look at me. I had to know if I still meant something of if he had given me up for good. Lorcan was in the middle of explaining him something animatedly, and it would have been easy for the redhead to miss my departure… but he didn’t. It seemed Hugo Weasley was just as tuned into me as I was into him. His eyes darted away from Lorcan just in time, and shifted onto my face. And my breath just hitched and nearly stopped like it did every time our eyes met. For me, those blue pools of brilliance held a sublime beauty I could not hope to translate into words. But this time, his eyes didn’t sink to the floor to avoid mine, he was staring right at me, boldly, stubbornly, as if he was determined to give me some kind of a message… and I could have _murdered_ James who unexpectedly pulled me behind and I fucking missed it!

“I wish he stopped staring,” James hissed, when we turned the corner and we were out of the earshot. But I was tired and angry, not to mention too bloody confused for words, and I wasn’t about to put up with any grumpiness but my own that evening.

“Who… what? Who are you on about? Staring at what?” I barked, though I knew perfectly well who and what he was referring to. I just didn’t want to admit there was something wrong about that.

“Hugo, who else!” he wouldn’t let up. “He stares at you as if you’re on the menu!”

This was one of the moments – and there was more to come – when I could have confessed the whole thing, come clean to James, accept all the hexes I deserved, and move on. But the image of Hugo touching Lorcan’s chest and smiling, kept playing in my mind, and I… I couldn’t. I could be ruining everything for nothing and I was too much of a Malfoy to take that risk. So the only thing I managed was a forced shrug and a dry comment:

“James Potter, last time I checked, staring was far from illegal.”

“I know! I _know_ that…” James said, wildly at first and then in a bit calmer voice, clearly trying to get his over-heated feelings under control. “It’s only… Anyone else would have been over the moon with Lorcan Scamander drooling over them so obviously, but I swear this idiot’s head is from another planet; he barely acknowledges him!”

I nearly kissed James at those words for the way they had made my heart soar… and jab him in the ribs for putting Hugo down once again.

“He’s got one of the hottest guys in the school practically worshiping him – what the fuck’s up with that I’ll never know! – but that greedy freckled git stares at _my_ boyfriend! As if he’d ever stand a chance! Scrawny, seven kinds of mad – a serious danger to anyone crazy enough to come near him, you don’t know half of the things he’s done! – I can’t believe he’s Uncle Ron’s son!”

I was having flashbacks standing there. I went hot and cold at the memory of Hugo’s accusing eyes on me when he told me he had heard James’s hurtful words from the Room of the Requirement, and I simply knew I could not handle feeling as low and rotten as I did back then. I couldn’t keep silent. I just had to be careful…

“He’s got the most heavenly eyes I’ve ever seen,” I blurted out, feeling there was something seriously wrong with my head when I heard myself speak. So much for careful…

James stopped flat in his track.

“You think so?” he said quietly, almost threateningly, and this time I gulped silently.

“Well, he’s your cousin, isn’t he? It would be weird if _you_ thought he was something to look at, but those long legs… and he’s got really broad shoulders for a skinny guy… I just think… he’s going to be very handsome… in a few years,” some other, clearly suicidal, Scorpius kept blathering. I might have added _“Oh, and I’m bonkers about him,”_ and seal the deal – have myself offed by a Potter in a dark corridor, just like some expected me to end.

“Just like, uhm, your Uncle Ron,” the rational me stuttered instead, albeit miserably, clearly trying to undo the damage. Surprisingly, mentioning James’s favourite uncle again did the trick. His livid, honey-coloured eyes softened a little, and he settled for making a face, rather than tearing mine off.

“Yeah… I don’t know… perhaps you’re right. Dad says Hugo is a carbon copy of his dad at this age, so I suppose… I don’t _hate_ him,” he said pointedly, clearly trying to persuade himself rather than me. “He’s awfully fun when he’s not trying to blow up the planet… and I suppose he’s got really… fancy eyes, no one in the family has such radiant colour… but I just keep wishing he looked the other way, and not at you!” he exploded once more, and this time, I felt sorry for him as well as myself.

Someone, please, hand me a “Bastard Supreme” certificate. Put a ribbon around it as well, while you’re at it. Because, instead of ending it – another chance down the drain – I put my arms around him, and wisely kept my mouth shut, because I really didn’t feel like I was up to lying… and I had no idea what folly could still fly out of it if the need occurred to defend Hugo some more. But even as I held James, and let him pull me into a half-hearted – on my part – snogging session, my mind was in a complete different dimension.

What James had said… the way he had finally noticed that there was _something_ … Did it mean that Hugo had become more careless… _or more obvious_ for reasons I could not comprehend? Both options were mind-boggling. If he was being careless, he might be getting desperate – and the idea of a desperate Hugo sent my skin prickling. I wouldn’t let James slander him, but the fact remained that he was, uhm, _slightly_ mad, and completely unscrupulous. And about the other option… why would he deliberately be getting obvious? He wouldn’t be bold enough to put his claim on me out in the open…?! Like, publicly?! So, I’d have to choose… in front of everyone… Shivers ran down my spine for an entirely different reason because of that thought. Surely, he wouldn’t… But I had no way of knowing that.

Yet, somehow I _did_ know that whatever was going on in his wonderful, colourful head I would get to see it at his birthday party, and I could only hope it was not going to be too devastating for me. Suddenly, not going was no longer an option, as unsettling as I still found it. Can you blame me if my trembling fingers made me seem as if I’d had one Butterbeer too many while I was getting ready on Saturday? Yet I somehow managed to look perfectly composed on the outside because that’s what being a Malfoy is all about – keeping a blank, cool façade while there’s all sort of rubbish going on under the surface. And I _was_ a perfect wreck on the inside. Butterflies in the stomach, goosebumps breaking out all over my skin randomly, and not a single coherent thought to be found.

I kept trying to figure out why I was so dead-set on going, be what it may, when it was clear that whatever it was going to come out of it, was hardly going to be good for me. In the end I determined that the cowardice that had stopped me from breaking it off with James, had only been a part of the reason I decided to take my chances. What played a larger part seemed to be… some kind of a silent cry for redemption. Let Hugo do his worse. Let James try his finest and rob me of my idiotic, adolescent dream that my first time would be with someone I loved. Let them break me both, knowingly or not, I deserved no better. Perhaps Hugo was willing to be merciful and I would only end up in a hospital wing? And there would be a miracle and James wouldn’t want to… yeah, and pigs could fly. I knew what I was doing, going there, but I was so desperate and torn between the boy I wanted to be, and the boy that I was, that I no longer cared about ending it nicely. I just wanted my confusing world to burn, even when I knew I would burn with it.

~

I dressed myself to the nines. It was a birthday party – and the fact that it was Hugo’s was enough to know there was no dress code. I didn’t care. I was going to be casually perfect. Black trousers, custom-made during our last trip with mother to France, that happened to hug my arse like water, carefully tailored silver-grey silken button-down with buttons made out of mother-of-pearl which I left fashionably untucked to make it look a bit more informal, and soft Italian shoes, matching my shirt in colour and style. I was thinking of the vest, but it was too bloody hot and it was very likely I was overdressed as it was. Oh - and I had a present.

I was not supposed to have one. James said we’d go as a couple and we can get Hugo one present, we’d just have to make it a bigger one. He looked at me funny when I’d suggested a new Firebolt… Oh, well, I suppose if you’re not a Malfoy out to impress, this is perhaps… an excessive present, if there is such a thing. But at least I had good reasoning behind my choice: Hugo was literally growing up to be a giant in front of our eyes and the broomstick he was using now, was no longer going to be good for his balance. Well, not _yet_ , no, but, you know… eventually. Anyway, I had explained that to James and at least I’d gotten him pondering for long enough to forget that there would be something awkward about relatively unimportant guests to show up with such a grand present.

“Well, yes… perhaps you’re right. It _would_ make a brilliant present, and he _is_ growing up to be bigger than a Mountain troll, only… You _are_ aware that my dad requires us to pay for the presents from our own money – whatever we earn during holidays – right?” James started awkwardly, sounding a bit embarrassed, but I barely heard him.

You see, in that exact moment, I had spotted the familiar red hair in the distance, and my heart had nearly jumped out of my chest, just the way it always did. The sun reflected beautifully off the golden red mane and, suddenly, I knew exactly what I was going to give him.

“So I was thinking, perhaps…”

“Yes, of course, I apologise,” I interrupted James, not willing to give our disagreement any more thought, now that I had gotten my own idea to ponder about. “I wasn’t thinking. It’s not exactly like it’s one of the big birthdays, like 17th, right? A broomstick would have, perhaps, attracted too much attention. Premium quality broom-polishing kit will do just fine instead. I suppose being an only child – and a Malfoy, obviously – has me thinking a tad off scale, darling… Forgive me?”

The way James kissed me, enthusiastically and relieved, would have melted the stone. I hated myself more than ever. I honestly, from my heart, wished at that moment, that I could love him for a wonderful boy he was… but that ship had sailed already. I forced myself not to think about the affairs of the heart too much… because I knew very well I no longer had a heart to give. And because I had stupidly denied myself the right to tell that to the boy who stole it, I was paying the price of playing the part of a someone I never wanted to be – just like my father before me. Only I had no one to blame but myself.

But even if everything was lost, I still found myself with my present in my pocket just before I left. I had to give him that, _I had to_ , even if I had absolutely no idea how I was going to present it to the birthday boy. I would find a way. Because it was perfect. It was family heirloom. It was me. It was him.

When James met me in the Gryffindor common room, his eyes might have bulged a little. The radiant smile he gave me, allowed me to guess why that was. I _did_ try very hard with my appearance, have I mentioned that? And he was nothing short of perfect himself. It was easy to see how that messy jet-black mane, those naughty honey-coloured eyes, and muscled physique made the girls squeal the moment he passed by. He was much more like his Uncle Ron in stature – as he always told me proudly - than he was like his own father, the famous Harry Potter, who had suffered malnutrition as a child at the hands of his neglectful relatives who raised him, and as a consequence, never grew up to be a very tall man. James also had Uncle Ron’s laid back nature, a lazy smile of his grandfather, the legendary Marauder James Potter, and the fact that Quidditch was his favourite past-time, something he was more than willing to pursue professionally, did nothing to reduce his chances with the girls… or any other interested population. He could have pulled anyone – and he chose me.

Merlin, I was a fool! I was silently cursing my stupid miserable self when I saw him meet me with a big smile, that gorgeous Quidditch-shaped body stylishly clad in a black leather vest – no shirt, oh, my, the girls are positively going to faint this time! – and every muscle of his powerful legs visible under the skin tight leather pants. He was an animal, and in spite of all my misgivings about having sex with him, I was flooded by a certain amount of pride that this boy was mine to flaunt. Seriously, who could beat this?! I was actually relieved. Perhaps I had gotten my act together at long last, and picking James was the right decision after all? Was it possible that being so foolishly proud of being with him was a beginning of something bigger, better? Maybe I could do this; maybe I could pull off a relationship that was based on… well, a lot of things we had in common, and sex that would undoubtedly be good with this Potter god! The very thought lifted my spirits, and I met him with the biggest smile I could muster.

“Babe…” he kissed me in a way that it nearly knocked me backwards, quite literally. “You take my breath away.”

You see how he always knew just to say the right thing? God, yes! He was kind and sexy; he adored me and he was mine… and it all mattered for the whole of twenty minutes it took us to walk to Hogsmeade, holding hands and occasionally stopping to kiss. On my request. Because I was so fucking desperate that this could be it.

But the moment of truth could not be delayed forever. We soon trailed into the dingy side-alley where the shabby pub was carefully concealed – and we found it barely recognisable. It was covered from top to bottom in lively decoration and everything festive one could possibly find in the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes – which, I assumed, was fitting, if your father owned half of the most famous wizarding joke shop in England. Judging from the noise that was coming from the inside, we were not the first to arrive. It took my eyes a while for to get used to the darker interior, and I noticed it was indeed already quite packed with people, ordering butterbeer, chatting loudly and generally looking like a jolly lot. As soon as we entered, all eyes were on James, and there was more than one squeal coming from the tables that were predominantly occupied by girls. Cheers came from all sides of the pub – _“Heeeey, Jamie, over here!”_ – and even a sour, menacing looking owner behind the bar, raised a glass he was cleaning with none-too-clean a rag, to greet him.

It was just as well. I could use being in James’s shadow for once. With all attention focused on him, I could afford to carefully look around the place and try to locate the one person that made my heart beat faster. Perhaps there was a chance that I could still beat this terrible obsession? There wasn’t any way in hell Hugo was going to be more dashing than James, was there?!  But then I spotted him, and my enthusiastic hopeful haze disintegrated like the morning mist in the summer sun, and I was left staring, dazed and bewitched. Because there he was, and he was… he was a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the chapter seems fitting, because there's really not much development and story hasn't moved on significantly. I know it's a poor excuse, but I've found myself completely out of time lately - even more than usual - and feeling like crap on top of that, so I decided to at least post something (about a third of what was to be an actual chapter) to buy myself some time to complete the rest of this portion. Sorry for the crap quality, I know I can do better, but right now I'm just not putting out the best of me. Let's hope the next one is better and not so anti-climatic if there's someone left around to still read it. :)


	4. Come to the dark side, we've got candy...

Even on his big day, Hugo Weasley didn’t bother much with clothes. In fact, he barely bothered having any at all. The only thing on him were practically faded blue jeans, fashionably torn at the knees and barely reaching up to his narrow hips. No shoes, and those long, lean legs still looked as endless as ever. _No fucking shoes._ Who comes bare feet?! That was Hugo for you… he does. And oh, yeah, there was no shirt either. Which basically meant… I was fucked. I couldn’t take my eyes off the vast expanse of the pearly skin on the display, and I just couldn’t… god, there were clusters upon clusters of golden galaxies of freckles to be admired! I fucking _love_ freckles, all right?! His skin seemed to shimmer in the semi-darkness of the pub like a fresh layer of snow in the moonlight, and I wasn’t entirely sure there wasn’t an _actual glitter_ covering his torso… Merlin…

But just because he was Hugo bloody Weasley – and he could be himself in any circumstances – he did have a pair of black suspenders running up from his hipbones, and it looked… oh… _ohgodyes_ … He was literally the only person on the planet who could get away with that image. His outfit would make anyone else look ridiculous, but on him it just looked ridiculously attractive. He had a semblance of a boy who just got out of bed after a night he couldn’t quite remember, and was walking around the house half dressed. Those suspenders really stole the show… They made him look incredibly boyish and… _oh,_ _Jesus… cute as fuck_. Somehow those two lines of elastic drew all the attention to his broad shoulders and the hard muscles in his torso, and I found myself swallowing my drool quietly. I was absolutely right: he was growing up to be beautiful.

And it wasn’t just his clothes – or lack thereof – it was the whole of him, the complete incredible… _ohmygod…_ thing. Instead of the regular plait, his radiant hair was pulled into a tight man-bun, but a few of the glossy strands had already made a break from it, escaping down the curve of his long, strong, elegant neck, some curling gently around the clavicles, others running like a fiery river all the way down to his nipples. _I got hard at the sight of his fucking hair -_ that’s how bad I had it! Look, I’d seen him in various states of nakedness before – fuck, I’d seen him stark naked in the Quidditch showers – but I had never before… Mother of god… my brain was crashing trying to process all the beautiful details of him… oh, crap, I was pathetic! It was like having a religious experience! The sight of him knocked me out completely. Somewhere in the back of my brain I realised no one was seeing him the way I did, that his beauty was for my eyes alone – but for that fact I was no less besotted by it.

“Hey,” he greeted us with a big, laid-back smile, and when his magical sapphire eyes glanced at my face, quickly, shyly, my knees went soft on the spot. How could I even delude myself for a moment that I could live on what James had to give me? This was… this thing… _the pull_ between us – wasn’t even in the same category. I found myself giving him my biggest, brightest, most blissful smile, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if someone described it as slightly mad – it was certainly close to manic... From one moment to another I felt as if I was drunk.

But James beside me had yet to speak. Because we were holding hands, I felt him go strangely stiff, almost as if some sort of realisation hit him, and when he did open his mouth, the voice that came out was unusually snarky:

“ _Jesusfuck_ , Hugh… Is that fucking _glitter_?! Bloody hell, mate… I know it’s your birthday, but what happened to your fashion sense?!”

The jolt of anger I felt was immediate. Why did my boyfriend, of all people, always feel the need to put Hugo down?! The fact that he was practically a perfect human himself, did nothing to excuse such a behaviour. Even if I wasn’t as smitten with Hugo as I was, this ungraceful behaviour would leave me feeling guilty by association. And he had no reason! Surely, he couldn’t have been _that_ jealous! Perhaps Hugo’s attire was a tad… unorthodox, but this was _Hugo_ , for fuck’s sake, surely no one expected him to show up in white socks and a prim looking jumper. He was provocative, fun, delicious to look at, and he pulled it off perfectly. I threw an open, unabashed look of darkest doom in James’s direction – if nothing else, he was being terribly rude – and I had already opened my mouth in Hugo’s defence, when my beloved redhead knocked us both backwards with a smile that could light up the darkest corners of the Universe.

“Why, Jamie… _of course_ it’s glitter, it’s my birthday, innit? Totally edible, if you must know,” he said sweetly. I actually felt a little faint at those words, while my cock simultaneously attempted a world record at high jump. That boy was entirely bad for my health.

“And as to my fashion sense…” he continued with a naughty spark in his eye, “I’m afraid it died so long ago it no longer stinks.”

 _Jesusfuck_ … how could I _not_ love him?! Just look at him being smart, funny and so fucking unapologetically confident about his looks that it made James blush in embarrassment.

“You know I was only kidding,” my boyfriend murmured, but Hugo’s eyes already flashed with blue fire.

“However, this isn’t a costume party – what made you think it was a good idea to come over here looking like a rent-boy?” he inquired in the same sweet voice, and he blinked innocently for good measure.

Mad and bad Merlin’s left bollock, Hugo… He was fucking fearless, wasn’t he?! My breath kind of got stuck in my throat and James looked positively flabbergasted. But then Hugo’s shoulders began to shake in laughter, and one could almost hear a “crack” when the tension broke. The relief in the air was so bloody infectious even my moody boyfriend couldn’t fight it. 

“Oh, fuck you,” he mumbled, unexpectedly let go of me and pulled Hugo in a one-arm hug, grinning madly. “C’mere, you old mad dog! I can’t believe you’re only 15, feels like 150, to be honest! Happy fucking birthday, you crazy pie! Don’t mock me, or I’ll smear your present all over you!”

“Jamie, you idiot… you wouldn’t be trying to get me laid, would you?! You know what the smell of broom-polish does to a pack of randy Quidditch lovers – it makes them want to _mount_ … ohhh, all kinds of wood,” Hugo replied, his voice somewhat muffled in James’s embrace and full of laughter. Jesus, he was crazy. And I was crazy in love.

I realised I was smiling like a loony when he finally freed himself from James’s arms. He had that adorable blush to his face and eyes full of stars – and when his magical orbs landed on me, I could have jumped him. I was literally afraid to touch him, because I had no idea how much control I still had over myself. I wanted him so fucking bad.

“Scorp,” he said in a husky voice, still panting slightly, and I could no longer stay away from that sexy, radiant smile on his face. Instead of taking his hand to congratulate him, I launched myself at him, and fuck all.

“Happy birthday!” I managed to croak somehow, soaking up his addictive scent and hypnotising warmth like an addict as my arms found their familiar way around him. I didn’t give a single fuck how wrong I looked in the eyes of my boyfriend standing three feet away from us. God, how I needed a fix of my fiery redhead…

 _“Scorp… don’t,”_ he whispered into my hair, and I knew it was a warning, but my mind only registered how fucking incredible his warm breath felt against my skin.

“Please, don’t blow me up this year,” I said loudly, and when a round of laughter exploded around the room, I got my much desired distraction. _“I’ve got my own present for you. Please…”_ I whispered in his ear, and I knew he understood. I forced myself to let go of him, and I had barely made a step backwards when James’s arm wrapped possessively around my waist. But I still couldn’t take my eyes off the main prize of the evening.

“Your wish is my command, Master Malfoy,” he said quietly, and the way he spoke the words instantly reminded me of our first kiss when he let me take control, and I had to stifle a moan at the flush of blood that slammed up my stiffening cock. But then, as upon a second thought, he added causally, with an incomprehensible, intense sparkle in his eyes: “But really -  only because you asked so sweetly.”

You see, that, right there, that hidden power that raced through him, sent shivers down my spine. That boy could excite me and undo me in a thousand different ways.

But then James unexpectedly pulled me away, sulkily throwing something like _“We’re going to get a butterbeer and find a place to hang out for a bit. We can’t stay long, we’ve got plans”_ across his shoulder, and from the force he had applied it was obvious to me that he was angry.

“What the fuck was that?!” he exploded as soon as we settled down at what seemed like the only free table left, possibly overlooked because it was in a dark corner. But I wasn’t going to let him have that one.

“You were being rude!” I hissed right back, and I think my intense response shocked him out of his wits and took the wind out of his sails. “I’m a Malfoy and in my book, rude is _unforgivable_! I _don’t care_ if he’s your cousin and you go eons back; I don’t _bloody_ care if you don’t think much of his unorthodox style, or if you’re _plain fucking jealous_ , James Potter! That is no way to treat a fellow human being, it reflects poorly on your upbringing, and on me as well! I can’t – and won’t – have that! So I decided to… _compensate_ a little… with my affection,” I said as superiorly as I could muster, and put my best “Grandfather Lucius” expression on my face not to reveal my weakness.

“Merlin, Scorp…” he said after a moment of silence, sounding in awe. And then he unexpectedly pulled me closer and crushed our mouths together.

“Did anyone tell you how incredibly sexy you are when you’re all high and mighty?” he murmured straight into my mouth heatedly. “Jesus, love… you know how to drive a bloke crazy… We don’t have to stay long, you know… Just let them get sloshed a little, so they won’t notice when we slip away… an hour, two at most… and then this fine, aristocratic arse of yours will finally get the attention it deserves… I’ve had it all arranged, you know. Look, what I got us.”

With a smug expression on his face, he pulled a small, rusty old key on a chain from his pocket and hung it around my neck. I realised what it was… and my heart sank into the ground. The key seemed to weigh a ton.

“There,” he said proudly. “Aberforth is in on it, and _this…_ is from the room upstairs. I’m going to have to do the bar-tendering for half a summer in this place, but I don’t really mind it, it’ll be worth it. We need to make this happen, Scorp. I’m dying to have you,” he said passionately, and I had a sudden miserable, melodramatic thought that I just might die if he did indeed.

But I didn’t stop him when his kissing became more forceful, and he finally pushed me against the wall and sucked onto my neck. I was here for this, wasn’t I? I was here to get myself purged of my childish illusions, I was here to bury my dreams and become a man at last, even if it was going to be the worst kind of punishment for my stupid heart, still aching for a boy it could no longer have. Losing one’s illusions was… _painful_ , and I was learning that through the most passionate kisses bestowed upon my favourite places, roaming hands that slipped under my shirt to send shivers down my body with their unwelcome touch, and a small million of appreciative endearments and frustrated hungry profanities James whispered in my ear. My body tried to play along, but I, trapped inside it, cared for none of it. But I wasn’t numb. Far from it.

You see, all this time, my eyes were glued masochistically on a slim, tall figure of my beloved redhead, standing across the room, receiving guests, accepting congratulations with that beautiful casual smile of his - and forever followed like a shadow by a dreamy blond _fuck_ , who used every opportunity to touch him, lean into him, whisper into his ear and laugh with him – and whose neck I’d love to snap. But then Hugo turned halfway and spotted us, saw my eyes on him, but he didn’t turn away. He didn’t even look away. He watched us across Lorcan’s shoulder, unmoving, for all the world to see looking as if he was listening to the blond, albeit absently, but his eyes never left my face. He watched me getting ravaged by James as if he wanted to punish himself, punish me, and under those eyes, my crazed body started to respond.

I felt my nipples burst to life, I felt the familiar blush of arousal set my skin on fire, and when he slowly lifted his hand and let his fingers casually touch those soft lips I loved to mark, I let out a whimper. I felt possessed. He was literally mind-fucking me from the distance, and there was nothing I could do about that. I loved it too much.

“ _JesusMerlin_ , baby…” James panted into my ear. “Fuck, you’re hot making those sounds. I can’t wait… oh, yeah…”

I pulled on his locks forcefully because Hugo had leaned into the blond slut and whispered something in his ear, before smiling one of his slow, sexy smiles that could probably wake up my cock from the grave. Fuck… that obscenely beautiful mouth I wanted to plunder was too close to another boy’s skin, and I was desperate to be the one… I wanted to smash the obnoxious blond bastard against the wall and take his place, I wanted my redheaded god to push me down onto the table and snog me senseless. I wanted…

But in that moment Lorcan laughed softly, fixed a loose lock of flaming hair behind Hugo’s ear – another harsh tug of James’s locks –  and said loud enough for me to catch his words:

“Anything for you, birthday boy.”

He walked to the bar, clearly to get Hugo a drink, and a flush of frustration flooded me when the redhead gently tilted his face sideway as if saying goodbye, and finally took his eyes off me. He must have been looking for the place to sit in a packed pub, and with a pang of pain I realised he was looking in the direction away from me. If he found something, I might not see him again this evening before…  Merlin, I couldn’t even think about it. Suddenly James’s affections became unbearable.

“Stop… please, stop,” I said quietly, and much to his credit, James did. I immediately regretted being so fucking selfish when I saw his flushed face and bright eyes – because what did it matter, when I was going to give him everything in the end anyway? But I just… couldn’t. Not yet, I told myself.

I opened my mouth to find some meaningless, empty excuse, but at that moment I – and the rest of the pub with me – nearly jumped to the ceiling at the sound of ear-splitting squealing, coming from the cloud of bright red hair crashing into Hugo, and in the next moment Rose was hugging her younger brother as if she didn’t see him for a decade.

That’s the Weasley genes for you; the fiery lot could hug like no other. I found myself smiling inadvertently at Rosie, trying her hardest to embarrass her baby brother in front of everyone _– “Oh, my god, would you look at him, all… grown up! Don’t let Mum see you like this! Oh, I swear you’re growing up to be taller than Dad! Happy birthday, sweetie!”_ – but he took it bravely, with a most adorable blush, a blissful smile, and a murmured _“Oh, Rosie… you’ll always be my favourite midget…”,_ before he wrapped himself around her and yanked gently on her hair as if he was 5 rather than 15.

“That’s what you get for embarrassing me, big sis,” he mumbled. “I hope you got me a massive present!”

“Hugo Weasley, you are now _most certainly_ too old to beg for presents!” she feigned scolding him, but then her pretty face brightened, and she added quickly: “I most certainly did! Dad and Uncle Harry… well, you’ll see! But you can’t get it before you feed me some of that deliciously smelling butterbeer and a bite to eat, I’m positively starving. This brute here has been dragging me around Hogsmeade since the morning!”

“This brute” was Lorcan Scamander’s much more subdued twin brother Lysander, who was currently standing by Rose’s side as if someone accidentally put him there and forgot all about him. He was grinning shyly, and though I was still struggling to find a way to tell the twins apart when they were both in their school uniforms, it was really no work at all when they were both out of their robes. While Lorcan was always the epitome of the latest fashion, Lysander looked uncomfortable and awkward in anything but an old pair of jeans and a colourful jumper with fraying sleeves which looked as if it was made by a blind person with no sewing skills whatsoever. But I knew Rosie had made the right choice. Lysander might have been a bit socially awkward, but he was loyal to the bone, a proper nerd, a devoted social activist, really clever, with unexpected bouts of dry humour – and most importantly: he looked at Rose as if the world began and ended with her. I couldn’t even imagine what nerve it had taken from him to finally ask her out, as popular and beautiful as she was, but Rose, like her mother, had a thing for boys who needed a bit of help saving from themselves.

“Jesus, Hugh! There’s barely room enough in here to breathe! How many people did you actually invite, you presents-greedy monster?!” Rose looked around with bewildered eyes at the occupied tables.

“Uhm… like, three, five… don’t know, really!” Hugo pondered seriously. “I swear the rest just jogged along. If I had it my way it would only be you and Lys here, and… oh, yeah, Lily begged Al into bringing her along, and then…”

His eyes darted towards me, and my breath hitched. He invited _me_. He barely invited anyone, but he invited me. The rest just showed up, expecting a good party, but he wanted me here. I could kiss him at that moment if I could hope to get away with it without getting murdered by my boyfriend, still possessively holding me across the shoulders. I knew James wouldn’t think anything of Hugo looking our way – he must have thought Hugo was looking at him, probably forgetting it was actually Rose who issued his invitation. And that made all the difference.

But Rose’s eyes followed Hugo’s and she exclaimed in happy excitement:

“Oh, there’s plenty of room to sit there! Budge over, Jamie, make room for your little cousin! Hey, Hugh, over here, I got us a place!”

How was that girl not born a bludger I’ll never know – they didn’t come in any harder and more direct than she did. James barely had the time to make a face when we were all but pressed into a wall to make room.

“We were actually just…” he started, halfway up already, but Rose just threw him one of her _“speak and die”_ looks before she went for his jugular:

“Oh, I know what you were _actually just about to do_ , James Sirius Potter… but don’t you _dare_! Not yet, anyway. This is Hugo’s birthday party, and you were invited! You should at least show my brother the curtesy of hanging about for a couple of hours, and if you must make an early escape, do it discreetly. You wouldn’t want to make Hugo think his birthday means nothing to you, would you then?!”

A mountain troll with a fully functional Elder wand would not dare go against Rose Weasley when she gave one that look, and James was no fool. For all his buff physique, he was actually quite fond of his balls. He muttered something unintelligible, but moved obligingly, and as everyone shifted and moved, I suddenly felt a familiar sensation flood my every sense. Somehow, I had found myself looking into the blue gems of Hugo Weasley, who slipped into a place directly opposite me, and smiled that tiny, sexy smile I could just eat off his face. He just… took my breath away. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know what to do, how to behave – or how to take my eyes off him for that matter. From one moment to another, James’s arm around my shoulders weighed a ton.

And even when Lorcan pushed himself on a bench near Hugo, murmuring something about having no room – but really, only looking for excuse to sit as close by him as possible – I should have been jealous, yet I barely registered his presence. I was near Hugo, inhaling that wild, addictive essence that always followed him around, and I was as happy as I could hope to be that evening. There it was, that tingle of excitement crawling down my body, that made me feel as if my skin was hyper-sensitive, my lungs inhaled twice the volume of air, and my heartbeat went through the roof. It made me feel incredibly alive. He could do that to me without moving a muscle, by just sitting there, looking at me with those heavenly eyes, not speaking, not touching, just reaching out through me in a language no one else spoke. I was half hard already.

Our knees bumped into each other under the table, accidentally perhaps, because his long legs just went on forever, but once I felt the warm muscles rub against mine, I didn’t think, and I didn’t hesitate. As if he had given me a command I opened my knees and allowed our legs to slide next to each other and intertwine. I barely held back a moan. He frowned at me, and then a slow, sexy, dark smile crawled onto his face, and settled somewhere at the bottom of those incomprehensible eyes. He didn’t move his legs away from mine, and feeling the strong, warm muscles press against mine, did nothing to help my hard-on go away. I was stuck somewhere between heaven and hell, and it was my own damn doing.

I took the simple plastified menu from the table, mostly to distract myself since food was the last thing on my mind, but Hugo slowly leaned forward across the table, and as he tilted his head to read it, his cheek nearly touched mine.

“Anything interesting?” he asked matter-of-factly, but his intoxicating earthy scent that embodied all the sweetness of summer hit my senses and I couldn’t reply. If I only turned my face I could kiss him… I could feel his warm breath on my skin, I could almost sense those long auburn eyelashes sending shadows down the pale cheeks, and I felt like sinking my teeth into that beautiful long neck that seemed to call my name. I never wanted to touch anyone so badly. I was positive if our eyes met, I’d have no choice but to jump him. I stubbornly kept my face turned to the menu in my shaky hand, thought for the love of god I couldn’t tell you whether they were selling troll sandwiches or strawberry tart.

“Perhaps this,” I said weakly, and I randomly pointed to an item on a menu, because it was all a fucking blur anyway; I couldn’t see and I couldn’t think straight.

“What about this?” he said and suddenly his fingers slipped over my hand and he pointed to… whatever, something that was just above the line I pretended to read, and I had to bite the inside of my mouth not to make a sound. Those long, masterful finger held way too much power over me, and my hand clenched into a fist inside the warm, calloused cage. Merlin, if his idea of a punishment was to drive me batshit crazy with his presence, it was a bloody brilliant one, and so far, totally working.

“All right,” I managed through my constricted throat, and I noticed him pop a lopsided grin before he unexpectedly glanced at me through his eyelashes.

“As you command… my master,” he whispered once again, and... look, I knew he was only fooling around, but I swear a bloody lightning went through my body. His fingers disappeared from the top of my clenched hand, and I was bloody desperate...

“Just going to order this at the bar,” he got up in the next second. “Abe there is just drowning under all the orders, he should really consider getting more staff. By this rate we’ll all die of hunger – he’s never going to make it to the table to take our order, not in this crowd.”

“I…” I was up before I knew what I was doing. “I’m going with you,” I swallowed thickly. “Need to go to the loo. Anyone else wants something? Jamie?”

“Could do with a butterbeer,” my boyfriend mumbled sulkily. _“…to wash down this misery of a party,”_ I could finish the sentence for him, and I felt a sudden pang of shame. He had been planning this for so long and I… but I could no more help myself than I was able to stop breathing. It was beyond my power to resist the gravity that pulled me towards Hugo. It felt every bit as if was slowly spiralling down to hell for my deceit, but I no longer cared. I was willing to risk everything for a chance of a few moments alone with him.

A few more butterbeers were ordered around the table, and then we were free to leave. Even walking next to him in silence was charging. He seemed so calm, composed, and… in charge. That was just it, wasn’t it? I knew what was going on underneath that controlled exterior, and I knew he was holding it all back for me. And I… I was dying to see him fall apart.

So when we finally melted with the crowd at the bar, trying to capture Aberforth’s attention for long enough to actually place an order, I could no longer hold myself back.

“I… – I love your outfit,” I stammered out, not knowing where I was going with this, but desperate for a response. He actually turned his head and looked at me sideways, as if he was trying to determine whether I was making a fool out of him, but then he smiled his small, sexy smile, and spoke quietly:

“It’s all for you, you know that.”

 _Jesusfuck_ , Hugh… I somehow managed to conceal my arousal when I got up from the table with the help of a handy blurring spell I muttered, but there was no hope for it now. My balls fucking _hurt_ from yearning.

“I need to see you,” I blurted out, finally too fucking desperate to beat around the bush. “Alone. I’ve got a present for you,” I kept babbling, because I was hopelessly hard and smitten and I couldn’t imagine going on with this charade without at least a hope of a few moments with him. “And I want to… I need to… before…”

Finally, I ran out of words. The thought of ending this evening with someone that wasn’t him was suddenly more than I could stand.

“Please…” I whispered, because it was the only argument I had left… and it had worked before.

He leaned into me fully this time, and his soft mouth actually touched my ear. It was all I could do not to shoot in my pants when his rich, aphrodisiac scent hit me up close.

“You don’t deserve me,” he hissed through his teeth, and the heat in his dark, dangerous voice was in such stark contrast with his blank face, I actually whimpered out loud in a mixture of fear and arousal. “Why should I? You keep hurting me… you keep playing your hurtful little game… and I’m still considering if I should let you get away with it or not. But you keep asking more from me… where the fuck does it stop, Scorpius?!”

I could have erupted, and told him to stop teasing me then, to stop confusing me and sending me mixed signals that were driving me crazy. But I knew better than to antagonise him. I couldn’t win that way.

“Please…” I begged again, and this time I saw despair and defeat at the bottom of the beloved blue eyes.

“Fuck…” he whispered, and shook his head like he couldn't believe his own folly. “Would you do anything for me, too?”

He pulled away abruptly – no promises, not another word – but I knew I had gotten my way with him once again. I watched him elbow someone ruthlessly at his side to get upfront, and then apologise with that radiant smile of his, and before I managed to blink, he was the first one at the counter, placing our orders. I loved watching him get forceful. That subtle power that resided inside of him was hypnotic. I could watch him manipulate people all day. But I couldn’t just stand there as if forgotten and I vaguely remembered that I was supposed to be headed to the loo.

I realised it was actually painful to walk with my cock throbbing madly in my trousers like a captured volcano. God, he had wound me up! Did he even know what he was doing to me? I barely made it to the bathroom, when a hand grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me behind the corner into the corridor that lead to the stairway.

“What the fuck are you playing at, Malfoy?!”

I was looking into the angry milky blue eyes of Lorcan Scamander and I didn’t really have the answer for him. So I decided to play dumb for as long as I could.

“I was just headed to tend to my natural needs,” I said politely. “I wasn’t aware it involved any amount of playing. I really _do_ need to go, you know.”

“Play dumb all you like, Malfoy, this one is mine!” he hissed angrily. “You came here with James Potter and that should be enough for anyone. I suggest you hold on to _your boyfriend_ of months, and quit following mine around like a lost puppy!”

Even the insinuation of them being more than friends – though it was clear as day that he was here, trying to make that happen – pissed me off completely. So I got careless – and carelessly stupid.

“He isn’t yours!” I barked back lividly, barely controlling the volume of my voice and spectacularly failing at keeping up the pretence that this was not a straight out war. “We were friends before you ever gave him the time of day, we were…” – I had to bite my treacherous tongue not to say _“lovers”,_ and suddenly I found myself without the words to finish the sentence – “… always close,” I said miserably, when I finally found words neutral enough. “He’s not your _property!_ ” I pointed out in an angry, shaky voice, and out of the sheer, dumb stubbornness I added: “He’s _not_ your boyfriend. What do you even want with him? He’s not exactly your type, is he?!”

For the first time I saw a hint of insecurity in his eyes, then he shrugged:

“He’s bloody special, that’s what he is. Lys and I… we’ve inherited a gift of sensing someone’s magic from Mum – and his has been… just out of this world lately. It’s like it’s morphing – Mum says it happens when someone’s growing up – and I… I find it hard to take my eyes off him once he’s near. Plus, he’s kind of fun, you know,” he shrugged again, and glamorous Lorcan returned to the surface. “He’s a challenge, that’s for sure. Not only are people afraid to date him because he’s so goddamn mental, he’s also… he’s never been with anyone, has he?”

“Exactly! He’s too young for you. He’s too young to date anyone!” I spat out because if that argument worked for me, it made sense it would be perfectly valid for him as well. But much to my surprise, he only laughed in my face.

“He’s a Weasley, you idiot! Their sex drive is legendary. I bet he’s been ready to f… to date for some time now. You’d know that, if you were as close as you said you were.”

His voice turned sly and hard, as if he was instantly reminded that I was, in fact, a competition.    

“In fact: if you were, indeed, _always_ close, Malfoy – then how come you never sit with him, you barely talk to him, and the only time you _ever_ spend with him is behind James’s back?!” he said triumphantly. “At least I’m not ashamed of being seen with him… unlike some,” he added acidly, and he was so fucking right it brought tears to my eyes.

“Perhaps he’s not my boyfriend, not yet,” he said in a calmer voice, clearly confident that he won our little tug-of-war. “But if I have it my way, by the end of the evening, he will be. If you even _think_ of standing in my way, I might let it slip in front of your _actual_ boyfriend about your uncommonly long trips to the Quidditch field in Hugo’s company. _Back off_ , Malfoy – that’s a fair warning!”

At that moment I stood to lose everything. Scorpius Malfoy that never kissed Hugo Weasley would have backed off, accepted his losses and moved on. But I was clutching onto Hugo’s present in my pocket with the force that was turning my fingers white – and I refused. I was there for that, wasn’t? To burn all the bridges I had no use for.

“Why even bother warning me, if you’re so sure of yourself?” I hissed angrily, and made a point of making it sound menacing and haughty. “Does it worry you, perhaps, that it was _him_ who chose to walk with me to the Quidditch practice every day? Don’t assume things about a re… friendship you know nothing about! Perhaps I’m not crawling all over Hugo’s lap like _an overzealous kneazle_ ,” I pointed out sarcastically, using Hugo’s words, “but that doesn’t mean that we don’t have a bond, and I happen to find _very_ precious. You’re right: he’s very special – too damn special for you! – and I won’t let a cheap _slut_ like you use him and make him miserable!”  

My fierce response must have taken him completely by surprise as he was still gawping when I turned and headed for our table as majestically as I could muster, completely forgetting about the bathroom excuse. I suppose he wasn’t used to much resistance, having grown up next to a meek twin brother who let him have his way, and all those good looks that hid very well what a sly fox he was underneath. But I wasn’t Lysander Scamander, and the blue eyes that melted my knees were of a different shade. 

It took me a while before I noticed that I had a shadow, and I nearly stumbled when I saw a small smile on Hugo’s face. Oh, Merlin… how much of it had he heard? Just my fucking luck! What if he thought it was me who had started it? I had no business being jealous, yet my last sentence could hardly leave a different impression.

“I didn’t mean…” I started awkwardly, but I forgot my explanation and my name with it, when his long, powerful fingers slipped behind my ear, seemingly fixing a loose lock of air, but really teasing my skin the most sensual way imaginable.

“Ohhhh…”

 _MerlinChrist_ , I couldn’t hold it back. I barely swallowed one half of a mortifying whimper, but his smile became fully blown and dashing and… _ohgodfuck_ … I could ever barely function under that smile before, and now…

“I know what you meant,” he said quietly. “I wish I could kiss you right now. You were magnificent.”

And those words just kind of rooted me to the ground. Without even bothering to stop, he continued to the table without me, levitating at least five butterbeers and several plates of snacks as if nothing had happened, and I just stood there, screwed to the spot, wondering when my melted knees would start working again. Finally, I managed to move, but I felt as if I was walking on the clouds, my legs just didn’t seem to work properly, and I could barely tell left from right.

 _“I could kiss you right now…”_ he told me. For once, he was proud of me. I had managed to give him a little something in return after all. The whole world seemed to breathe and radiate with those words, and I could barely feel my feet touching the ground. Would I always feel that way if I was his boyfriend? The sweet delirium raced through my veins at that thought, and it was completely undoing. Hugo… my boyfriend Hugo… those broad shoulders I could bury my head in, that long lean body I could own, my fingers buried in the silken river of fire as we kissed, that soft treacherously pliant mouth returning my kisses and whispering my name… _JesusMerlinfuck_ … I needed that loo after all. I seemed to have poisoned myself with my crazed Hugo-laced fantasises, and what was left of my common sense told me it would be just too bloody mortifying if he smiled at me again innocently, and I’d mewl and come in my pants.

I did my business quickly. It hardly took more than taking my throbbing cock in my hand and thinking of the way his fingers caressed the sensitive skin behind my ear… oh, god, I was such a slut for those long, masterful fingers… The tips of them just seemed to burn my skin, branding me… I wanted them all over me, teasing my budding nipples and bristling skin, owning me, exploring my senses, rubbing sweet aching desire all over me, taking charge…

“Hugo... fuckfuckfuck… oh, god… fuck…”

Under a fucking minute. I lasted longer than I thought I would. I was far from all right, though. I felt as if I was drugged by this fucking love he infested me with, and I felt myself falling apart by the seams, being so impossibly heady and exhilarated. But at least that pathetic wank had taken the edge off my inner madness, and after staring at the mirror for a good two minutes, muttering _“You’re a Malfoy, you can do this. A Malfoy is always composed… Merlin, what am I doing?!”_ –  I was ready to return to the table, looking just a tad worse for wear. You see, I couldn’t erase that insane glint from my eyes, no matter how hard I tried. I was in love and I was about to spend the last few hours of my innocence by the boy I was crazy about, before I was to do the unforgivable. I think by that time I had stopped caring. I was thrown slightly off my rocker by the hopeless situation and ready to take whatever was coming.

I dutifully slipped behind the table next to James, who smiled at me with genuine adoration, and muttered _“Finally done flirting with the bathroom…”_ , before he turned my head towards him none too gently and greedily latched onto my mouth. “I missed you…” he murmured. “You’re gone for five fucking minutes, and I missed you. I want you too bloody much for words, Scorpius Malofy,” he whispered, so immersed into my mouth he completely failed to notice it was barely responding. That boy had enthusiasm enough for two, and I… I just couldn’t. And then I _really_ couldn’t when with the corner of my eyes I noticed Hugo slipping into his place by Lorcan, and my chest just expanded with the feeling of _wrong_ , and I felt every bit like cheating.

“Jamie…” I tried moving away, but he didn’t seem to hear me. His fingers sunk deeper into my hair, as if he was determined to kiss me as thoroughly as he could, and I felt as if his mouth might suffocate me. Bloody hell…

“Hey, everyone! Sorry we’re late! Al had some last minute – debatably – clever idea. May we also sit here?” a gentle voice chirped, and _ohgodthankfuck_ for Lily Potter – and Al, smirking at me – standing at the foot of the table. Her voice seemed to break the charm possessing James and he reluctantly let go of me, still panting and bright-eyed. I was afraid to look at his crotch; I knew all too well what I would find there, and it was a scary reminder of the path I’ve chosen for myself. James was a proper Weasley in everything but a name.

“Lils, I can’t see how you could,” Rose said a tad anxiously, because the six of us were already stacked like sardines in a can around the small table, and it didn’t seem possible to fit two more persons in.

“Everywhere else is taken,” Lily added sadly, and looked too disappointed to for words. “I was hoping we could sit here with…” – she looked at me, blushed furiously, and quickly added, “… the family.”

“Oh, Lily… perhaps if you made it here earlier,” Rose started, sounding genuinely apologetic, but at the same moment Lysander calmly drew his wand and muttered a spell. The table elongated magically, and he mumbled an unassuming “There you go!”, as if it was no big deal, and put his wand away. Rose applauded like a three-year-old, and, on a whim, kissed his cheek soundly.

“Splendid! What a champ you are! Why didn’t I think of that?!” she exclaimed, and the poor chap just sat there, nearly petrified, and from the slack jaw and the look of complete bliss spreading across his face, one could see how much she stunned him and how happy she had made him. He was kind of adorable, they both were. How could people have it so simple, and I…

“Hi, Scorpius,” Lily Potter said to me shyly, when she slipped in next to me.  She was still quite red in the face and all kinds of lovely. 

“Hey, Lils,” I forced myself to smile at her because she was such a darling angel, and everyone liked her for her kindness. But she only blushed even more furiously, smiled back shyly, and looked kind of lost for words. I didn’t really know what to say to her – I wasn’t really into girls and the only girl I’d been comfortable being around was Rose because she was very much no-nonsense and not all too girly. But that wasn’t really Lily’s fault, and I was kind of desperate and quite grateful for a distraction, so I decided to play nice. After all, being stuck at the table with a bunch of Potters, wasn’t exactly hell on earth. It was just not where I wanted to be.

“That worked out brilliantly,” Al said cheerfully, plopping himself next to his sister. “Who wants a drink? First round is on me!”

“Bit late for the first round,” Hugo chuckled good-naturedly, graciously pushing his butterbeer across the table towards his cousin, and it was that fucking addictive, warm laughter of his, that finally tempted me to look in his direction shyly. And I promptly fell apart. I should really refrain from doing my poor overloaded brain further damage – the sodding thing barely worked in his presence as it was, but once I allowed myself to look, my eyes could barely pull away from his face. Oh, but he’s got the loveliest face on the planet! I loved his pretty, freckled face, have I said so? Oh, fuck it, I probably loved his left pinky, too. I loved him, the whole of him: that wild, wicked, sexy smile, the way he tilted his head to the side when he was observing someone… the way he was looking at me, _in that very moment_ – and those blue gems simply melted my bones.

His eyes merely lingered on my face for a fraction of a second, and the expression in them was indiscernible, yet my heart fluttered in my chest as if he had just kissed me. God, I had it bad. But he had already turned back to Al, and picked up the conversation casually:

“I hope you at least got me a present. Rose here keeps promising me something massive, but I’ve yet to see a Hungarian Horntail landing on the roof.”

“I swear you’re worse than Hagrid on the worst of days,” Rose rolled up her eyes. “Who wants a dragon for a pet, seriously?!”

“I’d love one,” Hugo says without flinching. “Only, they’re not pets, are they? They’re beasts and they’re only cute for the first few months after they hatch. Still, I’d love to see them up close – Dad’s got all those wild stories about them, yeah? – but Mum is a pest. She doesn’t want to let Uncle Charlie take me with him for the summer. _“Perhaps next year”_ is all she ever says,” he said grumpily, and scrunched up his nose, which made him look totally adorable.

“I know,” Rose said curtly, but her face was uncommonly smug – which made me think Rose Weasley had a secret she didn’t want her brother to know just yet.

“I got you your shoes,” Al said between two mouthfuls of butterbeer, and I had to stifle a giggle. Al was so wonky sometimes… Perhaps he had noticed Hugo’s shoes lying about back in the common room, and he brought them along? I was half-expecting him to shove them under Hugo’s nose and say _“Happy birthday!”_. But apparently – I was wrong. Hugo’s eyes got all big and blue, and impossibly lit up.

“You didn’t…!” he whispered.

“Did, too!” Al said with the biggest grin, and pushed a small shrunken package across the table in front of Hugo. “The ones you wanted. Just like those Dr. Martens you really liked in that Muggle store and your mum didn’t want to splash out on, only _these_ are _real_ dragon hide,” he said proudly, and kind of went numb when Hugo leaned over the table and kissed his cheek. Fuck… I… why did he have to do that for?! Al was so fucking pretty it was ridiculous… look, I know he was his cousin, but still… it was hard not to be jealous of someone with eyes like green gold and that perfect Potter smile! Merlin, I was an idiot. Who has such blasphemous thought when their actual boyfriend is pressing needy little kisses onto their shoulder?!

“You shouldn’t have,” Hugo said quietly. “These must have cost a bloody fortune!” He sounded so shocked someone would spend so much on him that my heart clenched. Why the fuck did I ever listen to James?! I should have bought him that broom!

“Don’t mention it…” Al waved his hand dismissively. “Dad insisted on contributing this once, you know you’re his favourite nephew. I think that’s his way of apologising for calling you Ron most of the time, heh! Besides, you might need them – ” And then he stopped mid-sentence and threw an anxious look towards Rose. “ – for things, concerts and such…” he said awkwardly, and then his face lit up and his hand disappeared into his pocket again.

“And I got you these!” A small package of about half a dozen candies – or something alike – glossy, and in all colours of the rainbow, landed on the table, and Al explained with a jubilant smile: “I saw you forgot those in the common room, so I thought I’d bring them along…”

“So you did,” Hugo said quietly, and perhaps I only imagined, but I thought I saw a strange, wild glint pass in his eyes that made him look almost feral. “I guess we’ll have to decorate the cake with them, then.”

“There is a cake?!” Rose exclaimed and that forever hungry Weasley sounded indecently exhilarated for a teenage girl who should be bothered with dieting and such.

“Yes, there is a cake. Granma Molly is having one delivered at six,” Hugo chuckled when Rose once again applauded and enthusiastically pressed another kiss onto Lysander’s cheek – this time closer to the corner of his mouth – and I thought poor Lys’s head was going to explode with a goofy grin that lit up his face.

But I promptly forgot all about them, when Al inquired curiously:

“What are they, actually? Looks like a jelly beans, but since it’s yours…” He wisely shut up, because we all knew what he was implying – for all we knew there could be the end of the world hiding inside one of the little harmless-looking colourful balls.

“They’re not _exactly_ candies… at least not innocent ones,” Hugo replied calmly. “I left them at the table to try and figure out where I fucked up – I helped Dad and Uncle George make them, but then Dad made me take those out because… uhm, I might have experimented on a few a bit too much. And then the new assistant in the shop found them on top of that, and thought they looked kind of boring without colour. And now no one knows what’s in there, and it’s, uhm… kind of important. You see, these are the mini-charms Uncle George, Dad and I’ve been experimenting with, but aren’t quite in working order yet, at least these few aren’t. Mostly, they won’t last properly. Some last a minute, some up to half an hour, but none of it is permanent or stable.”

“What kind of charms?” Rose wanted to know curiously, before she frowned. “Harmless, I hope!”

“They’re harmless now,” Hugo shrugged. “They don’t last. Sleeping potion, Amortentia, Polyjuice, Instant Courage, Veritaserum, Confundus, Splendour, er… Make-A-Wish even, you name it – I blended some together to test the effects. Just a drop of magic wrapped in a mouth-watering taste of your favourite jelly bean candy,” he quoted with mocked enthusiasm as if he was reading an ad on Wireless, and I think we all sucked in our collective breath.

“Make-A-Wish… Are you _mad_?!” Rose shrieked, the first to get her voice back. “Mum will have Dad de-balled if she ever found out what you crazy lot were working on! As if it’s not bad enough that there are heavily-regulated potions in those candies, _her teenage son is involved in making them_!”

“Can’t see the harm,” Hugo replied unperturbed, with a small, fearless smirk in the corner of his mouth. “You don’t know the business well enough if you think that Uncle George and Dad would do something like this without the approval – and an actual pre-order of several thousand pieces – of the Ministry. Apparently they need a portable form of these for their covert missions.”

“And Dad let you take those out of the shop?!” Rose looks at him incredulously, but this time he actually chuckled out loud.

“Don’t be mad, I nicked them, of course!”

“Hugo Weasley, you take those back _immediately_!” Rose barked, and if I was on a receiving look at that look, I’d be ducking under the table, frantically trying to think of the first Unforgivable that came to mind. “Or better even – destroy them!”

“Was going to once they were sorted, wasn’t I?” my lovely, mad redhead replied nonchalantly. “But since Al here brought them along, I reckon fate wants us to… get rid of the evidence instead.”

His eyes, nearly the purple colour of the lightning in the semi-darkness of the pub, had that crazy, daring, wild gleam that sent shivers down my spine, and the tension in his broad, naked shoulders was all defiance.

“Hugo…” Rose started adamantly, but she didn’t get far. His bony fists landed on the table with an impatient thud that made us all jump.

“C’mon, it’s _my_ birthday – and I’m going to be sodding disappointed if it’s a boring one! What’s the worst that could happen, seriously? We couldn’t get any of those to work for longer than half an hour, they’re none of them dangerous, and it’ll be good fun not knowing what any of us is going to get. We even get to guess! Who’s with me?”

I swear my heart was beating in my throat with a force that was making me feel faint. I knew I was the only one at the table who should fear him… yet I wanted to say “ _yes”_ with all my heart. I was desperate to show him that there was nothing he could do to me that I wasn’t willing to take, that no redemption was hard enough. But…

“Yes!” said Lorcan Scamander, that evil devil incarnate, and he actually looked at me triumphantly as he was making a point, before his eyes wandered off to Hugo’s face, and he smiled that charming dreamy smile. “To hell with it, sure… why not? Like you said – what’s the worst that could happen as long as it’s all reversible, right?”

Hugo thanked him with a sweet, mischievous smile that made me want to push my fingernails into the blond’s lit up face, but then, as it was no big deal, my redhead added with a cryptic smirk:

“Well, the charms in the jelly beans most certainly are.”

And I knew _exactly_ what he had meant. The effect of the charms would pass – but would their consequences? My shoulders nearly sagged under the realisation. Like he had said before: it was all for me. Merlin, he had me cornered… But perhaps I could still pretend to be sensible, agree with Rose, who looked at her brother with that fuming, living expression that said he was about to get it.

“Yes… all right then. I suppose.”

 _That_ … was fucking Lysander Scamander. Lys Scamander, who never ever put a toe out of line. Seriously?!

“Lys… seriously?!” Rose gawped at him, the disappointment in her voice crushing, and the poor lad blanched and blushed all in one.

“Yes… well… sor -  sorry… I - I just thought… it would be innocent fun… and they might have _Instant Courage_ and love potion and such…” His stammering voice died, but the loud plea in his milky blue eyes, so alike his charming brother’s but much more sincere, didn’t. And our brilliant Rosie understood. A tiny gentle smile that appeared in the corner of her mouth, completely undid her former stormy expression.

“Right… _Instant Courage_ … and such…” she said carefully, as if treading on egg-shells. “I suppose when you put I that way…”

“Oh, fuck it, I’m in!”

That was Al, his pretty face alight and smiling, and Hugo merely stretched his long arm across the table to high-five him. Right, at this rate, I was going to be the only one left…

“Oh, it’ll be so exciting!” Lily squealed excitedly and clapped her hands. “Count me in, count me in!”

“Lils, I don’t know if _you_ should…” Rose started worriedly, but my beautiful, mad redhead would have none of it.

“Rose, give it up. The only thing wrong about those jelly beans is the fact that I nicked them. Loosen up a bit, you might surprise yourself. But if you lot are _really_ not brave enough…”

“C’mon, Rose, I’ll do it!” And then I knew I was roast. Because that was James, and he would never ever let anyone call him a coward. “And so will Scorp here, won’t you, baby?”

He pressed a long, warm kiss in the crook of my neck, but the only thing that came through a haze of my frenzy was a hard, unrelenting look from the hypnotic blue ponds, staring at me across the table. So, with a knot in my throat, I nodded.

“Brilliant,” Hugo said softly, and his sparkling deep eyes might as well have been made from sapphires. “That’s everyone. Now we only have to keep ourselves entertained until six, when the cake arrives.”

“Oh, I’ve got this,” Rose said unexpectedly – and uncommonly smugly. “Your present should be here any moment now. Oh, look, here it comes. Here _they_ come.”

And suddenly, the place was a mad house. And I confess, I was shrieking with the rest of them. Because through the door… through that fucking door of the shabby little pub in Hogsmeade, in walked _The Weird Sisters_ – only the most popular wizarding band of all times! The tables and chairs disappeared literally from under our behinds, and once the makeshift stage appeared at the side of the bar, the commotion of stomping feet of literally _everyone_ , hurrying to get as close as possible, was complete.

Talk about being starstruck, every last one of us! James and Al were screaming like chimps – _“No fucking way!!!”_ – the jaws of Scamander twins were lying somewhere on the ground, between the overturned plates and knocked-off cups, Lily Potter was clinging onto me – of all people! – and sniffling quietly into my shoulder in all the excitement, while Rose was beaming as if she had just been made a Minister for Magic. You had to give it to the girl: she pulled her present off perfectly – and what a present it was! When my eyes located Hugo in the crowd, my heart melted all the way. Big blue eyes, O-shaped mouth and a stunned expression – for all the world to see Hugo Weasley looked like a three-year-old who just got the birthday and the Christmas presents all at once – a whole bunch of them.

“Why? How?” he asked and pulled his sister closer into his embrace, and our beautiful tough-as-nails Rose nearly started bawling.

“Because Mum wouldn’t let you go to their concert last year, saying you’re too young and that it was in the middle of your detention anyway,” she sniffed. “And it was so _unfair_ … and I couldn’t bear to see you so crushed. I wasn’t even angry at you when you locked her out of the house for a couple of days, and turned all her bookshelves into doxy nests – she was way too strict! Even Dad was sorry for you – he yelled at her like an amplified Howler once he had returned from his business trip in Egypt and found out. And Uncle Harry made her cry when he asked her if she planned to lock you in the cupboard under the stairs next. I think she was genuinely sorry. So when I came with this idea to Dad, and he didn’t say no directly – and Mum said nothing at all – I knew I had something solid and they were behind me. As to Uncle Harry – you know he would go and fetch the moon if someone told him it was for you.”

“Shuddup… would not!” Hugo murmured, and blushed adorably.

“Would, too!” Rose said adamantly. “You remind him way too much of Dad when he was young and… eh, you know how he gets when Dad is concerned. It was Uncle Harry who pulled some strings in the end and arranged for these crazy bats to do a short gig. He ended up promising them to sign all the band members’ instruments – and the cello player’s butt, so he can have it tattooed! – and he got the Ministry sponsoring their next couple of concerts for war orphans on top of that! But, you know… it was my idea!”

“And a bloody wicked one it was!” Hugo chuckled and when he leaned down to kiss her blushing cheek, I never saw the brilliance in his eyes shine so softly. “You’re my favourite freckly midget, Rosie, in case I don’t tell you that often enough. Consider the first dance yours.”

“Dance?! What dance?!” Rose snorted, but it looked more like an attempt to cover up how emotional she had become. “It’s obvious you’ve never been to any of their concerts, little one! You’re going to need your new shoes, steel caps and all! It’s mostly just…”

The rest of her sentence drowned in the ungodly noise that struck from the makeshift stage like thunder, followed by a ragged throaty voice we all recognised as belonging to the lead singer:

“Heeeey, everyone, how are you kids doing?! This is a mother of all surprise parties for a lucky bloke named Hugo Weasley, who’s celebrating his 15th birthday today – can we make some noise for him?! That’s right – my, you’re a screechy lot – I’ve heard a herd of mating hippogriffs do it more quietly! Anyway, Hugo… I’ve heard all kinds of extraordinary things about you from your Uncle Harry, so shine on, you crazy diamond, and a happy birthday from your family… and us, The Weird Sisters!!!”

And I can honestly say I can’t remember the next hour. It was just a blur of ear-splitting noise, kids gone crazy and chanting along, my new Italian shoes suffering a hundred and one abuse, and I could barely tell an arm from a leg in the jumping crowd. Fucking mental – and I loved every minute of it! I’d lost track of everyone in the mass of bodies, but it was sort of all right, it’s not like I could keep any kind of conversation going, and I was happily letting myself go in the semi-darkness of the pub, turned into a temporary concert venue. The only thing I longed for was to see Hugo and that sun-blinding smile once again, because – believe it or not – I loved seeing him happy.

But then the lights dimmed some more, and the _“last song for tonight, ladies and gents”_ was announced. The slowest song the band had ever made started playing, and the beloved long fingers wrapped around my wrist gently. I didn’t even have to see him to know that I got my wish and the wave of lucid joy that hit me made my head spin and the heart in my chest flutter madly. I didn’t care if anyone saw us – it was not like we were indecent – but when I leaned my head onto his shoulder almost imperceptibly, we couldn’t have been more intimate.

“Happy?” I wanted to know quietly, and he smiled softly.

“Now I am,” he replied simply.

And those words really rattled the crumbling walls of my heart. He came to me to be happy. I was all that was missing… and he only required to hold my hand. There was a big knot in my throat, and my fingers were shaking something crazy. That was my Hugo. He could undo me with the simplest of words. My boiling emotions burst out of me before I could form them into something more sensible:

“May I have this dance?” I asked in a choked, trembling voice, and I cast a shy sidelong glance in his direction, because I simply had to see his stunning face again. There was a sudden flash of an odd, pained expression on his face, almost as if he was dying to take my offer, but knew he shouldn’t accept it. And my heart was a bloody wreck recognising that I was hurting him this way. I knew I would lose this bittersweet dream we shared for good if I allowed him to speak.

“He isn’t here,” I spoke hastily, before he could. “He isn’t… and you are. Besides, you’re the birthday boy, he could hardly blame us…”

The second his fingers intertwined with mine, and he pulled me towards him to hold my other hand, I knew we shouldn’t have… and I think he did as well. This… we… what we had – was too magical. We were never going to come out of this dance unharmed. I lifted my face up for a second to gaze into his enchanting eyes, and the way he looked at me took my breath away, broke my heart and made my insides ache with heady, infectious yearning. I could live to be a thousand, and I would never forget the quiet moments of heavenly perfection… the way even time seemed to stop… the way we got to hold onto each other with our favourite band playing in the background, singing about dying love or dying of love, whatever, it didn’t matter. Sparks of the magic we shared danced at the meeting point of our fingers, and we got to share all the secrets of the Universe with our innocent, desperate touch. The rest of the world simply faded as if it was on another planet. There was no one but us in the near darkness, just a pair of shadows among shadows, and no one, nothing else mattered.

I leaned my head onto his chest then, and when he put his arms around me, I closed my eyes, hypnotised by the beating of his heart, drowning my senses in his wonderful scent. I had no words to tell him how much I loved him. None came. But in that moment, I thought perhaps he knew.

When the last chords of the song echoed into the darkness, I didn’t think. I raised my head up once again to meet his eyes, and pleaded with him quietly:

“Just one…”

He didn’t deny me. He could never deny me anything. Just a whisper of a spell I’d never heard before, and everything but us was a blur. In our makeshift little universe, made of magic, he kissed me, and there was nothing to hold me back. Finally, I could sink onto those beloved soft lips, tasting of innocence, desire and first love… and I didn’t let my small treacherous sob bother me. Our lips found each other… and they kept finding each other over and over again. Our kiss seemed to go on forever… our very own eternity made of tender flesh, warm breath, a bittersweet taste of a lonely tear, lost between two sets of lips locked in a desperate, thirsty kiss… and all that love.

But then the lights around us turned bright, there was a muffled noise of loud cheers and applause coming from behind the blurry barrier of a spell he hid us behind, and I knew our time was up. Yet, I persevered, desperate, hopelessly in love, and hurting madly with the thought of losing him. So I buried my fingers into his glossy warm hair, and I did not want to let go. Just a moment longer, my heart screamed… just one… and nothing but a muffled, choked _“Don’t leave…”_ made it to my lips.

“Damn you, Scorpius… why won’t you have me?” he whispered, his voice raw, incredibly lost, and so obviously miserable, it broke me completely.

In the next moment he Disapparated from my arms, as if he couldn’t bear to let me go slowly, and my arms, unbearably empty, fell down my sides lifeless. The last sane thought I remember having was that Malfoys didn’t cry… they didn’t _fucking_ cry, did they?! Only, I was barely half a Malfoy – and an abomination such as a Gryffindor Malfoy at that! – and I was well on my way to bawling like a widowed banshee. I barely made it to the bathroom, and I spent the next ten minutes in the cubicle, sobbing my fucking heart out over my own folly, the stupid Malfoyian ambition that lead me into this miserable position, and stubborn heart that left me feeling so hurt and defenceless against my thoughtless, selfish choices.

When I was finally empty of tears, or at least empty enough not to risk spilling them as soon as someone as much as looked at me wrong, I spelled my cheeks clean of tear trails, and I wandered out of the loo, not really certain where I was supposed to go. There was strange numbness ruling over my brain as if I no longer cared where the evening took me. As soon as set a foot outside of the bathroom I discovered that the tables have been reinstated as they were before, and the jolly lot of my company whistled, waved and beaconed me to join them.

He sat there with them already, nursing his butterbeer, and there was a numbness to his expression only I could make sense off. My feet carried me towards him without a single conscious thought on my part, as if they recognised their compass.

“What’s up, Hugh?” I heard Rose ask him worriedly when I was within earshot. “You look tired. Is there something wrong?”

Unexpectedly, her eyes darted towards me, and I had a sudden feeling Rose Weasley knew more of the affairs of her brother’s heart than she was letting on.

“No… of course not… I'm just a bit overwhelmed,” Hugo replied quietly, and somehow he managed to put that beautiful smile on his face, only this time it didn’t touch the blue sea of his eyes. “It _was_ quite a day, wasn’t it?”

“Sure was!” Al, looking kind of sloshed already, toasted happily with that brilliant Potter smile. But then he leaned forward and bumped his fist into his brother’s shoulder across the table, pointing towards me:

“Cheer up, sulk-face, here comes your precious. Looks like he didn’t do a runner after all!”

“Where were you?” James barked at me as soon as I slipped in my spot next to him. “I was looking for you… I thought I’d lost you!” that Potter child who wore his heart on a sleeve blurted out, all flushed skin and anger in his bright eyes. But even though his arm wrapped around me possessively, his feelings barely touched me, as if there was an invisible barrier between my senses and the outer world. I was so detached from my wretched inside, that somehow I even found it in me to smirk:

“I find it hard to believe that you’ve missed me very much, James Potter, you shameless party animal. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m prepared to bet every last one of my limbs that it was it you, jumping off the stage and howling like a wounded hippogriff!” I shot blindly, because I was good at this shit, you see – I could shift attention and blame like no other… well, save for all the men in my family. He blushed an even deeper shade of red, but looked quite pleased with himself when he murmured:

“You saw that, did you? Got a bit carried away, didn’t I? It _was_ a bloody _wicked_ party!” he beamed, never the one to carry a grudge for long, and only after I had paid him a sceptical _“I knew it!”_ look, he remembered that he was supposed to be angry with me, and he looked kind of sheepish.

“It _is_ a wicked party, no past tense,” Hugo suddenly spoke calmly, and for some reason the smooth, undecipherable tone of his voice made me shiver. “Because – lo and behold, Rosie! – here comes the cake…”

And there it was indeed! The grandest mountain of icing and sparkling candles that looked like small explosions – I guess Hugo’s Grandma Molly knew her grandson well – levitated through the air towards our table against a background of loud cheers – _“Save me a piece!”_ – and a genuine applause from the impressed crowd.

“Whoa!” Al said happily, all round green eyes and infectious, childlike smile. “Grandma Molly has really outdone herself this time! Looks like you’re still her favourite grandson, Hugh! Can’t wait to taste it!”

“Not yet,” Hugo said quietly, and I was wondering if I was the only one who could hear the tiny bit of an edge in his voice – or perhaps I was only imagining it… As soon as the cake landed on the hastily cleared table in front of him, he sent the mysterious jelly beans from the bag swirling through the air with a simple spell, and they randomly landed on the cake like a flock of shiny, colourful butterflies.

“There,” he said simply, and looked straight at me with no pretence whatsoever. This, like nearly everything else this evening, was for me.

“I’m still not sure if we should…” Rose started, but was immediately hushed down by nearly everyone at the table: “Oh, please, let’s do it, Rosie, it’s going to be splendid!”, “Don’t be a spoilsport, Weasley!” and “Chicken much, Rose?”

“All right, all right,” Rose muttered angrily, but I could tell her heart wasn’t really in it. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you spurt another head or have a spotted pickle grow in your face instead of a nose! In case this loony of my brother lands me in the hospital wing, someone bring me my pink pyjama behind, those hospital gowns are ghastly. Here,” she handed Lysander the nearest candy, glowing in a rich golden shade like a mini-Snitch. “Take this one, and I suppose… I’ll have this one,” she picked a bright orange candy with runes on top from the other side of the cake for herself. “We’ll do it together.”

That was it. No vote. Poor Lys never stood a chance against a freight train that was Rose Weasley.

“On three,” she said, and as if on a cue, everyone had gone silent behind our table, holding our collective breath. I chanced a look at Hugo across the table and his eyes were positively alight and almost feral. I knew the game was on.

“One, two, three!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually one half of a chapter. I just need a few more days to finish the other part. It's just as slow moving as before, so I totally get it, if you're disappointed. I kind of lost my momentum with this one, it seems.:P Oh, well... it's not a particularly inspiring year for me to write, maybe I should quit and pick it up in 2017, LOL! *keeps dragging the wagon anyway*


	5. The choice of colour, the colour of choice

At first, nothing happened. Rose and Lysander had popped their candies into their respective mouths and there were no immediate explosions, spurting growths, or the world shattering. And then Rose’s bushy hair flopped down, suddenly straight like liquid water, silken, glossy, and nearly twice the length. Don’t get me wrong – she was always attractive, but with her hair more like… oh, god, Hugo’s… she was downright breathtaking.

“Oh, my god!” she squealed in excitement. “I got _Make-A-Wish_! I’ve always wanted to see how I’d look with straight hair, because Sleekeazy Hair Potion doesn’t work on this bloody bush – nothing works! – and now… Quick, get me a mirror!”

Lysander Scamander who looked seven kinds of dazed, promptly transfigured one of the cups into a mirror without taking his eyes off her, and handed it over to Rose silently.

“Oh, bloody hell… stupid Mum’s genes…” she sighed wistfully, admiring herself from all sides, and I have to admit… I was kind of awed that Rose, my practical, level-headed, no-nonsense friend who never judged a book by its cover in her life, secretly nursed such a trivial little wish. I found it quite endearing, to be honest. Or I would, if it wasn’t for a little suspicion tingling at the back of my brain that I couldn’t quite put into words yet. I wisely kept my mouth shut until I could, but… come on, this was supposed to be _Make-A-Wish_ , an epically powerful substance – and a hairdo, really? But I only had to look across the table at that cat-playing-with-the-mouse smile on the freckled face, and I was instantly reminded that this was Hugo’s game – and it was not bloody well likely that everything was what it seemed.

“What do you think, Lys?” Rose asked matter-of-factly. “Gosh, I look so much better with my hair like this! I wouldn’t be surprised if you ran away screaming once it’s back to normal…”

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” Lysander blurted out unexpectedly. “I love your hair curly. And I love this… flow-y one- It makes no difference to me, to be honest. I’ve been bonkers about you since I first saw you. I was, like, three or so, and your mum brought you over to play with us – and you never once mixed us up! Not once! You knew exactly which one I was, and you sent him –” he pointed to his frowning twin brother, “– to clean the plastic cups, so we could play bride and groom all by ourselves. I married you when I was three, for heaven’s sake, and you allowed me to snog you once we said our _“I do”_ s. I remember how you blushed prettily and how pleased you seemed. I remember everything about that day… about you. Every look you ever gave me, your kindness, your… everything. You were always beautiful to me, Rosie. If only I wasn’t such a wimp! I’ve been trying to get snogged ever since…”

He actually clamped his hands on top of his unruly mouth, looking shocked and mortified, and Rose carefully put her mirror down with a shaky hand.

“Oh, Lys… you fool,” she all but whimpered. “You never said anything…”

He still didn’t say anything, but suddenly his hands dropped, and he launched himself at her, and snogged her good and proper.

“ _Instant Courage_!” Lorcan passed his judgement with a slightly annoyed smirk because for once, he was the one who wasn’t getting any. “Bloody hell, you’ve got some powerful batch here, Hugh!” he looked at my redhead all lovey-dovey, and I wanted to wipe that blinding smile off his face. Possibly, with a chair.

“Yep, _Instant Courage_ , sure as hell,” Al agreed enthusiastically. “I was thinking _Veritaserum_ at first, because he wouldn’t stop blathering, but I guess he just had a lot to say. He wouldn’t have snogged her if it was _Veritaserum_ though.”

“Good thinking,” Hugo nodded approvingly, toasting at Al. “Your dad’s professional talents are clearly rubbing off on you, cousin dearest.”

And – smitten as I was – I was stupidly happy that he complimented Al rather than the blond bastard by his side.

“Who’s next?” my redheaded king wanted to know, and the way he looked around the table expectantly, he had clearly meant “not I”.

“We’ll go!” Lily offered, practically bouncing in her chair and barely able to hold back her excitement. “Al and I are next, aren’t we, Al?”

I doubt the Dark Lord himself could say “no” straight into Lily Potter’s big pleading eyes, and Al was just a big softie, who was uncommonly fond of his little sister.

“All right, then,” he agreed promptly with a big goofy smile on his pretty face. “Whatever. We have to be next at some point, might as well get it over now. Hey, you two, unglue yourselves, I want your full attention if I’m going to embarrass myself stupid!”

Rose and Lys reluctantly broke their kiss, and while Rose looked flushed and quite unable to hold back a big, blissful smile, poor Lys literally looked as if he was struck by a lightning of happiness and was now positively _glowing_ with joy. Fraying jeans and that ghastly jumper aside, he looked about two hundred times more attractive than his more glamorous twin brother in my eyes.

“I think… I’ll go for this big red one,” Lily picked first. “Which one do you want, Al?”

“Don’t care,” he waved his hand nonchalantly. “Pick one for me. I can’t end up looking more foolish than those two,” he winked at Rose, all too busy trying to sneak another kiss from poor, awed Lys, who seemed more than happy to oblige.

“Have this one, then,” Lily informed her brother, while offering him a candy, glowing brightly green. “It goes well with your eyes.”

“And that’s all everyone _ever_ says to me,” Al commented, for once not even sounding bitter. “No need to count. See – in… and done.”

“Al, you mad fart,” Rose murmured. “This could be anything…”

And in the next moment, we found out _exactly_ what it was. It was impossible to miss. Al moaned in a beastly voice I’d never heard him use before and practically jumped across the table, barely missing the cake by an inch. The last thing I saw of Lorcan Scamander was how big his milky blue eyes became, and in the next moment, Al was all over him.

“Scamander… Lorcan…” he whispered throatily. “Merlin, you look delicious tonight.”

 He didn’t bother to say anything else. He simply launched himself at the blond slut’s mouth – and because he _was_ a blond slut, Lorcan Scamander didn’t really put up _that much_ of a fight.

“Hey! That’s… go off him, he already has a date,” Lysander tried in his brother’s place weakly, but Rose simply snorted and patted his hand patronisingly:

“Nice try, Lys. I’m sure _Amortentia_ will stop working if you ask it nicely enough. He simply needs to wait it out; it’s all he can do.”

“It’s a good thing Al didn’t go for Scorpius,” Lily chirped unexpectedly. “I knew he’d pick someone blond, but I’m _so_ glad it isn’t Scorp. It _would_ be awkward if all three of us liked him... oh, blast!”

James literally froze next to me, and I couldn’t even look the poor miserable girl straight in the face. I tried to recall her behaviour towards me so far – and it all made much more sense like that. But the poor girl was wrecked. I don’t think I’d ever seen someone as quite as deeply red as Lily Potter in that moment, and the expression on her face was simply horrified.

“I told you so,” Rose murmured, but at least she did it quietly and her voice was full of genuine pity. “No one ever thinks they’d end up getting _Veritaserum_. That thing is just the vilest!”

“Jesus… Lorc… what the fuck?!”

At least for the moment, everyone forgot about Lily, when Al, still sitting in Lorcan’s lap, looking entirely bewildered and appalled, screeched like a banshee on fire.

“Oh, my fucking Merlin on a tricycle! I’m so sorry, Hugh… I didn’t mean to go for your… whatever. Holy fuck… how about a nice Avada K. over here…? Someone… Rose... please?”

“Oh, do shut up, you drama queen!” Hugo chuckled. “It’s not your bloody fault, is it? _Amortentia_ is unpredictable as it is, and I’m fairly certain that this one was more than a bit contaminated by the _Confundus_ I put in Lily’s candy! After all – you’re supposed to be humping _my_ leg – I made the damn thing!”

The way Lily Potter looked at my freckly with a heart of gold, you’d think our Lord Saviour had returned to Earth. If gratitude was a currency, Hugo would have been made a millionaire.

“So, khm… Lily’s candy had _Confundus_ in it, then?” James laughed, sounding a bit forced and, oh, god, jealous like fuck.

“It sure did,” Hugo said firmly. “It was that large oval-shaped candy that looked like several fused together, wasn’t it? I remember that one, I charmed a massive _Confundus_ into that one myself. I doubt Lils can say her name right at the moment, she’s just babbling with no sense whatsoever. Besides, she’s too young to like anyone romantically, aren’t you, you little ginger bunny?” he ruffled her hair affectionately. Now, I’m fairly certain Lily Luna Potter would have loudly objected to being classified as “too young” for anything on _any_ other occasion, but this once she just nodded enthusiastically, apparently still scared to talk, and gave Hugo her biggest, brightest, most grateful smile.

“Hmpf… yeah, I suppose you’re right,” James agreed grudgingly, and his expression softened a little. “Uhm, so, I guess you want us to go next?” he added matter-of-factly, and my stomach sunk on the spot. Of course I knew it had to happen _sometime_ , I just… wasn’t ready. I doubt I could ever be ready.

“Only if you want to,” Hugo said lightly. “You can always back off, you know.”

“Like I would,” James huffed. “My little sis did it – no way I have less guts than her! Besides, I want to get it over with. I – we, Scorp and I – need to jet afterwards. We’re… uhm, _expected_ elsewhere.”

His arm, possessively wrapped around my waist, never felt more like a chain, tying me down. Hugo’s blue eyes were observing me from the other side of the table, and my heart was fluttering in my chest madly. In spite of Hugo’s words, I _knew_ Lily had gotten _Veritaserum_ – it just… explained so much – and _Amortentia_ was gone as well, so I was hoping there weren’t many – if any – of those two left. I told myself I could handle nearly anything else. I was definitely going to stay away from the green and the red candies, just in case. When my shaky hand finally reached towards the cake, I picked the one electric blue candy, simply because it reminded me of Hugo’s eyes. But it was not to be.

“Thanks, that looks good,” James said quickly, and he all but snatched it out my hand. Huh?! As if it wasn’t hard enough to decide, and then this… I would have scolded him viciously on any other occasion, but suddenly I felt as if the end had come at last, and I simply gave up. Come what may, I thought tiredly, and took the nearest jelly bean, an inconspicuous-looking oval little thing with a dull silver glow. I popped it in my mouth, closed my eyes, and waited. At least the taste was nice, I thought. Fuck it, it was more than nice! The rich flavour – chocolate with a hint of orange? – melted on my tongue like heavenly elixir and I nearly moaned out loud in the delightful, almost erotic sensation.

“Oh my God…” Rose said, sounding shocked, and I just knew it had to be bad. I took a big breath, bracing myself for the worst, and I opened my eyes. And saw nothing. At least nothing wrong I could spot right away. Not on myself, I didn’t. But then I saw Rose gawping with open mouth at something… someone to my side – so I turned my head and I gasped with the rest of them. James’s unruly, jet black mop of hair was morphing rapidly and turning bright red, glossy and long. His honey-coloured eyes transformed into brilliant blue, and looked spectacular on his face – before that one started changing as well, and sprouted a small army of freckles. His bare arms, usually pumped full with muscles, thinned beyond recognition and became wiry and significantly longer. His very complexion paled out and his clothes nearly swam on him. The expression on his face was still James, staring at the rest of his body incredulously, but that was it. The rest of him was Hugo. Another Hugo. Hugo with his arm possessively wrapped around my waist. And I knew _exactly_ what had happened.

“Bloody hell, Hugh,” Rose said almost in reverence. “This is one hell of a _Polyjuice Potion_.”

“Thanks,” Hugo – the _real_ Hugo – said with a small, courteous smile, that somehow managed to look entirely devilish. And I just sat there, staring into his magical, dangerously-sparkling eyes across the table, silently praying that James was just as fast with devouring his candy as I was. I got my answer a second later when his head hit the table with a loud thud, and he began snoring lightly.

“What the fuck…?” Al blurted, sounding utterly shocked and befuddled, and when Rose gasped… and then pressed her lips together to keep silent, I knew the brilliant girl had guessed the truth. She must have just realised she had gotten the potion in her candy wrong.

What happened to James… that was no _Polyjuice_ potion, you see. All James got was a sleeping potion, and possibly not even a long-lasting one. What transfigured him to look like Hugo, was the effect of _my_ _Make-A-Wish_ concoction, an all-but-illegal substance, known to release a super-powerful illusion charm to make one’s most desperate wish come true. Rose’s candy must have contained _Splendour_ , a beautifying, much weaker version of it. Mine was the real thing. For all the world, clever enough to see, it was now obvious whom I wanted in the place of my boyfriend. Desperately so.

~

No one said anything for the longest time, and I just sat there, feeling faint and unable to look anyone in the face. I thought _everyone_ knew, that everyone had guessed... God, I was a mess. I could feel Hugo’s eyes on me, observing me, calling me to look at him… but I just couldn’t. I was sure if I looked him in the eye, I would have started bawling; I could feel the hot tears of indignation pooling in my eyes already.

This was worse than calling me out in the open – I could have gotten out of that one somehow. I was a Malfoy and manipulation was our core business. But this… this was my _one true_ desperate wish, now out for anyone to see, and it was something that was not up to manipulation. The core charm of Make-a-wish was Legilimency and there was a reason it was only available to the highest-ranking Ministry officials – apparently it was priceless in interrogating and breaking the criminals. I couldn’t have faked this one if I wanted to.

“So… uhm… what just happened?” Al finally asked with his usual lack of tact, sounding a bit drunk on top of everything. “Did Jamie’s jelly bean contain two potions as well?”

And I suddenly realised that the only thing between me and my total humiliation was Rose’s observation about the _Polyjuice_ potion. Rose was the smart one, everyone trusted her opinion. If I dared looking at her, I could have pleaded with her silently, not to give me up for the coward that I was… Only – I didn’t have to.

“Yeah, that seems to be the case…” Hugo spoke softly. My head shot up as if a spring had been released in my neck. I couldn’t _believe_ … that he would speak up and decide not to ruin me after all. But why? He had taken such a risk to get me to confess irrevocably, there was a dozen ways this could have gone wrong, I didn’t even fucking understand _how_ he had pulled it off – and now this… He was throwing it all to the dogs. What was the purpose of this, then?

But then I looked into his eyes – and I understood. This wasn’t about exposing me – this was about Hugo learning the truth. It was his way, the only way he knew how. He didn’t care about my ambition, he no longer cared about me, being a prat who didn’t want to be seen with him. He only cared about my heart, what – _who_ was really in it.

_“Why won’t you have me?”_ he had told me, and I finally got what he had meant. He could take being shoved into the shadow, our tender bond treated like a shameful secret, as long as he knew it was real, coming from the bottom of my heart. He truly cared for nothing else. And the way he was looking at me, eyes lit up like two blue stars, I understood he got the answer he was hoping for. Without a single word spoken he declared his love for me, and it was humbling. I never felt like a bigger loser in my life.

“That’s why I had to remove those candies,” he lied smoothly. “Looks like I fucked them up pretty badly. Just look at Jamie! He looks like himself again but still snoring like an old dog!”

And the way James had changed back to look like himself confirmed my suspicion. The transition made by the Polyjuice potion was gradual, while Make-A-Wish disappeared in a blink, usually shocking the wits out of the guilty party.

“It’s a good thing he’s back to himself, though,” Hugo spoke leisurely. “Two of me would have been too much of awesome!”

Oh, yeah, absolutely! Shaken to the core, I was agreeing with all my heart. One Hugo was about as much as I could take – two of them would have been my certain doom! But then I looked at him smiling at me cheekily, sweetly, like a three-year-old who just pulled a prank, and I couldn’t fight my own mouth turning upwards and returning his smile. There were still tears of humiliation I didn’t need to shed pooled in my eyes – and yet he could make me feel as if none of it mattered. Oh, but he was entirely deadly to me. I stared into his eyes for a total of two seconds and I felt as if my heart was about to break out of my chest and fly out to meet his. He had me thinking all the wrong thoughts by just looking at me. I was so wrecked and dazed I barely heard others talking.

“… about you, Scorp? Do you feel anything?” Al asked curiously, and hearing my name finally woke me up.

Everyone’s eyes were on me as I managed to shake my head weakly.

“Nothing,” I croaked. “Nothing at all.”

“Must be one of the test group ones,” Hugo said calmly. “We use the ones with no magic whatsoever to test the power of suggestion. Ministry’s request.”

“Scorp is not only the most gorgeous boy alive, he’s also _so_ very lucky,” Lily blurted out and blushed, clearly aware she was not quite over the effects of her candy.

“Right, looks like Jamie isn’t about to wake up anytime soon. Perhaps we should make him comfortable. Mind taking him back to the castle, Lorcan the kneazle?” Hugo unexpectedly turned his unstoppable smile towards the blond. “I would, but I can’t leave just yet, being the birthday boy and all, having the cake to cut up. You can come and find me afterwards… There will be a delicious piece waiting just for you.”

The gentle tilt of the head, the unspoken invitation and that killer smile again, that made me grip the edge of the table not to launch forward and smack someone. It was a combination that left Lorcan Scamander looking kind of dazed, before he swallowed and nodded quickly. He got up, but then had a second thought and he stopped midway. 

“But what if he wakes up halfway there?” he wanted to know, and I certain everyone at the table thought it was a valid concern. Everyone but me, that is. I was sure this was Hugo’s doing –  though I had no idea how he made it work – and if Hugo wanted James sleeping, there was no doubt in my mind he was going to stay that way. The carefree smile on Hugo’s face told me I was right.

“Bring him back with you, of course,” my cheeky redhead said lightly. “Scorp and him had somewhere to be anyway.”

Merlin, but he was crazy. He was unscrupulous through and through when he was pursuing a goal – only I had no idea what that goal was.

“But why don’t we just ask Aberforth to put him upstairs? Castle is quite a bit of walk away and it’s nearly dark,” Rose suggested sensibly, but much to my surprise Lorcan shook his head with a sour expression on his face.

“I tried that,” he said sulkily. “I asked the owner when we got here if there was any chance of a room for… in case someone needed it,” he said evasively, and my blood turned to a bloody lava because it was pretty clear what – and who – he wanted it for. “And he told me that it was all taken. Someone had apparently rented the entire floor, and when I try to push a little, he got quite rude and unpleasant. Charming fellow, that.”

“Never mind, then. I’ll help you levitate him to Hogwarts,” Al said quickly. “Uhm, you know, if your wand arm gets tired.”

The way Al’s eyes kept looking at Lorcan, made me wonder if perhaps that kiss they shared tasted of more… It seemed that the effects of those potions weren’t nowhere as short lived as Hugo would have us believe. Lorcan didn’t look too averse to the idea of having Al as a companion either – and frankly, which trophy-hunter – such as the sleazy blond undoubtedly was – would be? Al was definitely a catch: almost too pretty for a boy and a Potter to boot – it was a lucky thing then that he could totally look out for himself. As a carbon-copy of his famous father, Al was pursued almost with manic obsession by witches and wizards alike wherever he went, and he was totally seasoned in saying “no”, and a proper master of a variety of disappearing acts. If anything was to happen… Al would be the one to make the call, I was entirely sure of that.

To be honest, I didn’t care. I didn’t care beyond Lorcan vanishing for as large a portion of the evening as possible – with Al’s help or not – and giving me a chance to have Hugo all to myself, even if that only meant I got to stare at my beautiful redhead across the table unobstructed, and drool quietly.

“Oh, look, there’s one left. Would anyone care for the last one?” Hugo asked unexpectedly, pointing to the centre of the cake, where the solitary round ball of sugar – and god-knows-what! – shone with black gloss like obsidian. It even _looked_ menacing. Needless to say, all of us save Rose and Lys nearly ducked under the table at the very sight of it.

“No, I… I believe I’m done with candies for the rest of my life,” Lily chirped, blushed again, and asked hastily: “I need to go… uhm, powder my nose. Rose, could you perhaps…?”

“Of course,” Rose got up immediately. The pleading tone in Lily’s trembling voice made it rather obvious that the youngest Potter had something she needed to get off her chest.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Rose all but ordered Lysander – as if he would! – but after taking a good look at Lily, she added with a sigh: “Scratch that. Be a darling and fetch us all a tray of butterbeers – it looks as if at least some of us might want to get sloshed. See if you can get a sip of firewhiskey into them!”

“Lorcan?” Hugo asked tentatively.

The blond looked decidedly uncomfortable and more than a little bit intimidated.

“No!” he replied hastily. “Uhm, look, I know I _said_ I would, but… I _really_ don’t want to end up like him – I... we got plans, right?” he tried to make a joke and a suggestion all in one, pointing at James, already levitating in a foot above the ground in a precarious vertical position.

“I see…” Hugo said softly. “I guess that one is mine, then.”

Lorcan visibly relaxed for not being scorned.

“Be my guest,” he smiled sweetly. “Just don’t change into a frog by the time I get back.”

And Hugo actually threw his head back and let out a beautiful hearty laughter.

“No worries, I won’t…” he said, and chuckled once again. “Not into a frog anyway,” he murmured barely audibly, as if he found that thought particularly entertaining. “See you?”

“Soon,” the blond promised and turned around hastily with James snoring body in front of him, and Al on his heels.

And just like that, it was just the two of us. I could feel the weight of his magical eyes on me, and my heart was trying to claw its way out of my chest. I swallowed whatever feeling it was that was keeping me from looking back at him, and I forced my eyes to meet his. Oh, god… I was an idiot. How was I supposed to look away now…? Like… ever again… He took my breath away.

He looked… radiant. There seemed to be a soft blue light glowing from that magical portal of his eyes and his very skin seemed to reflect candlelight as if it was golden. He was smiling. It was barely there, only in the corners of his pretty soft mouth, but he made it look as if it was all for me, as if I was in the beginning and at the end of it. He killed me with that subtle, enchanting smile. He killed me – period.

“You need to tell me how you’ve done it… This was… extraordinary,” I heard myself babble nonsensically, because at that moment I doubt I could understand a Rabbitty Babbitty tale, so void of any solid thought I’d become.

“Soon,” he promised, but as soon as his smile deepened and turned mysterious, he added softly: “Ready?”

And I didn’t understand. Not until he leaned forward, took the last jelly bean, and looked me in the eye as he swallowed it. A tremor went through me when the transformation began. I finally understood what was the point of it all. In under a minute I was looking into a face of James Potter. A simple glamour charm later, no one could tell his outfit from James’s. The way this boy did magic at his age, made my skin erupt in goosebumps.

He got up without another word and offered me his hand. I took it. Trembling fingers and ice-cold hand – but I took it without hesitation. Silently, we walked straight past the bar towards the staircase, and as we caught the eye of the vigilant bar-keeper, Hugo waved at him casually, and spoke calmly.

“You didn’t see us, Abe.”

And the ruffian behind the bar actually smirked, shook his head in disbelief, and grunted something like:

“Of course I didn’t… Just like his bloody grandfather, this one.”

And then it was just us, climbing the staircase. By the time we reached the top floor, the jet black hair of James Potter was gone, and when I finally managed to remove the necklace with a key from around my neck with my shaky fingers and insert it into the lock, I had my Hugo back.

And I knew I had to be the one. He’d done… everything. Given me his all. He had lied, cheated, manipulated and performed the devil’s magic out of this bloody evening to make my one wish come true – and now I had to be the one. So I pushed the door open adamantly, and I didn’t let the eerie squeak it released bother me. I moved forward without a second thought, because I no longer had any.

I stopped at the foot of the large, simple bed that looked brand new and out of place in the otherwise shabby room, but it emitted a smell of fresh linen and pine wood, and it was sparkling clean. James had kept his word. I turned towards the door, and saw my redhead still standing in the doorway as if he was not going to enter, unless explicitly invited. I wasn’t going to let him down. Not this time.

“Come,” I said quietly. “Come to me. I want you. I want it to be you… Hugo. _Please_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm such a let down to myself. :/ This is just the worst - I thought I'd be able to wrap this up properly, but still no luck there. I've just had two massively unsatisfactory weeks, with barely enough room to breathe, so once again, I'm just posting a bit that seems to make some sense and saving the unfinished part for the next time. Loser-y, I know, but that's the only way I get at least some writing out. You can't be more disappointed over me than I am, if it's any consolation. I hope this October is any better, September was just murderous. Moving along, albeit with snail speed. :P Sorry about that.


	6. This one goes out to the one I love...

He moved forward slowly, like in a dream. When the door closed behind him, and clicked with a self-locking charm, the atmosphere in the room morphed as if one current was replaced by another. There was no longer any noise coming in from the busy place downstairs, and the light from the corridor was extinguished completely. There was only starlight now, illuminating the room from a window through a cheap, loose curtain, and a single candle I breathed _Lumos!_ at, throwing silken, alluring shadows across the humble room.

He was standing at the edge of light, barely more than a shadow, his pearly skin only a hint of heaven in the darkness… and the empty space between us seemed to sparkle with a charge. God, how I wanted him. I wasn’t going to leave any doubt about that.

I extended my arm towards him and after a moment of hesitation, he took it. I swear a tremor went through me at the first touch and once our fingers intertwined – my marble-cold ones and his warm, strong ones – I felt as if somehow, we just became a part of something bigger. Some unity was formed I had no name for, but it felt every bit as if I was fulfilling my destiny.  His touch was incredible. Gentle, firm, reassuring, and terribly possessive by nothing more than a solid press of the fingertips. The warmth spread through me, radiating all the way up my body from our joint hands, and it felt as if I was being charged and filled with his very own Hugo magic. It tingled all the way down to my toes, my fingertips, my nipples and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck and I felt possessed by it. I felt owned.

I could just stand there and hold his hand forever and it would have been a silent confession of love, as valid and as true as the most extravagant one. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. For once, I had too much to give. And I needed to give him so much to be whole again. So, I put my one free hand in my pocket and brought out my present. It looked small and insignificant in the palm of my hand, but I had a story to tell with it, and tell it I would.

“May I?” I asked him, and he nodded silently. I kissed him gently between those strong, beautiful eyebrows, and he got the message quickly and closed his eyes. I disentangled the intricate platinum chain that didn’t show its many years of existence and still glowed as proudly as it did the day it was made upon the order of one of my proud and vain ancestors. I leaned in closer and inhaled the wild, addictive musk of his warm skin, and as I put my arms around his neck to close the complicated clasp I could barely stop myself from pressing my mouth onto the blue, pulsating vein and licking. Soon. Not yet… but soon. I would have all of this savage, tender beauty and more, and I was willing to wait.

“There,” I told him quietly. “Happy birthday, precious.”

It looked perfect against his pearly skin. The platinum chain was nearly invisible in the dark, and the small obsidian scorpion seemed to suck the light from its background until it seemed as if its smooth, black surface had a pearly glow to it. But the beautifully crafted animal was not what made my present special. The priceless gem, firmly parked between its claws for the last five centuries, radiating light like a small, captured sun, stole the show. The shifting light caught and fluctuating in its golden-reddish depths was enchanting. It was my inheritance and though I loved it so much, that I would sometimes take it out of the box, only to admire it, I didn’t plan on wearing it. You see, I never earned it.

“This is the one thing my father got from the family black sheep, Sirius Black, when he was born,” I told Hugo quietly while he was staring at the bright gem like hypnotised, as if he was somehow communicating with the magical stone through the ages. “It was brought by the owl in the middle of my father’s name-giving reception, and next to the simple velvet black box, the parcel contained a message with words: _‘Congratulations, cousin. This is for your boy, the last Black. May the light in him prevail over the darkness.’_

“Apparently my grandfather Lucius went positively mad and wanted to destroy it, but my grandmother Cissy, in a rare public display of temper, had shown to be uncommonly adamant about preserving it. My father was never allowed to wear it lest he risked Grandfather’s wrath, but apparently he was secretly very attached to it. You see – that’s how I got my name.”

My redhead finally looked at me, as if he woke up from a slumber, smiled and shook his head as if he didn’t understand. Which was just as well. I wasn’t done yet.

“My father wanted me to understand what it had meant to him, so he had only given it to me on the evening before I left for Hogwarts. He told me how he got it, and I never forgot his words: _‘I never earned the right to wear it. I hope you make better choices. If you don’t…’_ _then you need to pass it on to someone who will deserve it. It has charms on it that don’t go well with the darkness. No Black was ever able to hold onto it for long.’_ So – …”

I paused a little. There was no going back from here.

“So this is what I am doing now. I will never be worthy of it, there’s too much Malfoy in me. But you will… you _are_.”

And that was it. I was passing it on to the one person I could see wearing it proudly, to the one inconspicuous-looking, yet most magical creature I could see nothing but beauty and light in.

“You want me to have this? _Me_ , and not – …” His words withered away and he looked utterly shocked. The awe and wonder in his voice clearly testified he could barely believe someone would choose to give _him_ something so clearly precious and grand. In many things, Hugo was still his father’s son in much more than his looks.

“But why?” he asked barely audibly. “Why me… of all people?”

“Because you are Hugo – my fiery one, the one shining brightly,” I explained to him the essence of his name in a strained voice, full of emotions, and I couldn’t hold back a smile when I watched the child-like wonder take over his captivating, sapphire eyes. I loved watching it, I loved watching him. “This little gem of sunshine reminds me of you. The way it shines… the way it makes me feel warm just by looking at it. The way I can’t take my eyes of it – because I hardly see anything else when I’m around you either.”

“Scorp…” he whispered in a shaky voice, and I saw I really got to him. And I wasn’t even done yet.

“And just like this perfectly polished, yet utterly dark creature I was named after holds onto its treasure – I’m holding on to you. So, this… this is us. I’m the darkness to your light, and I’m not willing to let go. Please, don’t make me,” I said in a choked voice, because he was no longer looking at the necklace, but straight into my eyes, and I could barely remember my own name, let alone what I was trying to say.

He cupped my face gently and brought it closer, and then paused just for a heartbeat as if he wanted to take a good look at me and remember the moment. And then he kissed me. Just a tender touch of his lips, and all the colours of my world exploded violently into another dimension. He was mine. _He was finally mine._

~

It was a light kiss, almost a chaste one, nothing compared to the moments of hungry passion we’d consumed before. But it was infinitely more priceless. It felt like the first time. Slow, shy, as if discovering the new taste of a flavour I thought I knew so well, a touch of soft flesh offered to be explored, just a hint of a tongue introducing its alluring, tempting magic, and warm, moisty breath exchanged to make my skin bristle with sweet expectation. So, I closed my eyes yet again, the way I always would, but this time for entirely different reasons. This was to my way to experience and enjoy our kiss completely, the way I never had a chance before.

His lips really _were_ sweet, I discovered with a sense of wonder, and when I realised it must have been from that very magical candy that gave us a chance to be together, I wanted to savour every bit of it. I licked at the seam of his mouth gently, following the trail of soft, tender flesh under my tongue, waiting patiently for the plush lips to part and allow me access to sink into the cavern of pure delight. And when he mewled quietly, it reminded me what a boy he still was, and that sound alone made my cock throb greedily in my pants, demanding to be released. And then that lush, delicious mouth opened a fraction… _godfuckingfinally_ … and then some more, quietly begging me to be the brave one. _Like I fucking wouldn’t._ I could barely hold myself back from tearing his clothes off.

My poorly muffled moan followed my tongue plunging into the silken depth to meet its master, because how on Merlin’s wonderful earth was I supposed to keep silent when all that sweet, luxurious kissing, shy tasting, and slow-paced discovering got the golden juices of need and want spilling all over me like unstoppable warm tentacles. I was rapidly losing control over my overcharged senses and a quiet, solitary moan grew into a steady flow of hungry, pleading whimpers, when I forced myself to follow the slow, torturous pace set by that heavenly mouth. I didn’t know how much longer I could still do this.

And just when I thought I would die of the sweet, slow torture, our kissing morphed from tender, luscious exploring to something far more primal and needy without as much as a shred of warning. His warm, masterful fingers slipped into my hair and held me steady, while his tongue sunk into my mouth and plundered it deeply… My knees literally bucked under me and the noise that came out of me was… _Jesusgodfuck_ … it couldn’t have been mine. Part growl part wailing it was nothing short of beastly, a shamelessly wanton betrayal of my raging need, and _utterly_ _savage_. It was a sound of a willing whore absolutely fucking _dying_ for some merciless pounding and manhandling. I was inhaling in my favourite poison of my redhead’s addictive sex musk, kissing and abusing the beloved mouth raw, all the while burning with hot liquid desire down to my very nerve-endings - and still begging for more. God, how I needed, needed, needed…

His teeth captured my lip and bit it just short of drawing blood. I gasped in a sudden, uncontrollable pleasure-pain surging through me, and the thought how ravaged I’m going to look in the morning nearly made me cream my pants.

“Fuck… Hugo…” I begged without saying the rest, because I really didn’t need to. My need to surrender had become impossible to ignore. I was _oozing_ it. I could probably come if he told me to. Only, he wouldn’t. I had a price to pay for what he’d done for me that night.

His deliciously soft lips wandered towards the edge of my face and he outlined every inch of it with a trail of small, decadent kisses that made me release an unbroken wail of whispered obscenities, until his mouth unexpectedly latched onto that little spot under my ear that made me see stars, and I couldn’t stop myself from yelping out loud.

“So beautiful… so needy… you make me want to fuck and _devour_ you, angel…” he whispered, and all that dark passion in his voice made me keen and shamelessly slam my hips into his body to show him..., to bloody _show_ him and make it obvious how desperate I was... what he was doing to me.

“Always so impatient,” he murmured into the tender spot just above the vein in my neck, and I could feel his smile against my skin… bloody most erotic sensation in the world… Until his mouth actually closed around my pulse and sucked deeply… _ohgodpleaseyessss_ …  That was it, I was fucking going to come… from having my neck sucked… talk about hitting a new low.

“And I was dreaming of taking it slow tonight… of some slow, sweet _fucking_ …” he whispered enticingly into my ear and the way he said the word, like it was the only thing on his mind and he was hungry for it, made me push my fingers into his hair and plunder his mouth as if I wanted to show him he could have it… he could have anything he asked of me. He moaned into our kiss most heavenly, and his large hands slid down the sides of my body leaving a trail of bristling anticipation it their wake.

“You’re the only one that’s ever touched me... I haven’t let anyone near… But now I want to… I need to, _so_ badly… I want to try _everything_ with you. We’ve got all night, I made sure of that… Will you give me… will you _finally_ give me what I want, Scorpius Malfoy? Or do I have to beg some more?”

“Anything… Hugo!” I gasped, because he had deliberately rubbed his hard, trapped cock against mine in one long, torturous motion and I wanted… _ohMerlinfuckmore_ … I wanted more… so much more. “Anything… Just say the word…”

“If I asked you to strip for me… would you?” he whispered sweetly, and as his lovely face brushed against mine, those incredible, long eyelashes painted a trail of desire down my cheeks. “I’ve only ever watched… and I like to…”

“Fuck, yessss… I… please, don’t…” I blurted out weakly, because the image of the innocent boy was so fucking working for me like I never would have guessed it. It was as if the redheaded devil knew all my shameful, wild fantasies and rode through them one by one with his smart mouth and roaming hands.

“What were you watching?” I gasped when his lips brushed against my ear, because I was dying to know, and I was a little bit jealous, and god, yes, it made me hard picturing him… watching…

“Whatever I could…” he whispered back and devoutly licked the sensitive skin between my clavicles and my ears, until I was melting into a puddle of pure, raw lust. “Those magazines I nicked from Jamie… I got some _utterly dirty_ ideas there…” – another slow, maddening lick around the neck as if he was painting me a collar with his tongue, and I loved that idea… I loved it all the way too much.

“And those movies Muggles make and my dad keeps a stash of – hidden, as he likes to think… Boy, I’d love to try some of those _wrong, bad_ things with you… you can’t imagine…” he breathed in my ear like a promise, and a current of charge that ran through my body made me feel as if my very skin was on fire.

“And I watched Dad give it to Uncle Harry… _hard_. Usually, when he comes home from a business trip he can’t hold it… They fuck when they miss each other too much… they think nobody knows… so they do. Not very often… but when they do, they fuck like animals, like they need it, like it’s a life and death thing for them… Uncle Harry needs it really rough to come… and it’s a beautiful thing, seeing him fall apart…”

“Hugo…” whimpered, because I could no longer beg. He had to know what I wanted, he _had_ to.

He moved away from me, just an inch, but it was an inch too much, and he ordered me in a quiet, feverish, determined voice:

“Strip… I want to watch and you promised… strip, precious. I’ll give you what you need, I promise.”

His large hands slid down my body and stopped on top of my arse, holding so gently I barely knew they were there, only they were warm, safe, and dangerous all at the same time, and the awareness of them took my breath away and melted my resistance. I slowly began opening the precious buttons of my shirt with my shaky fingers, my very skin alert in his proximity, and those magical eyes watching every move of my fingers like in trance.

“That’s it…” he whispered, when I was being clumsy – but, _ohmercifulgod_ , how could I not, when there was a weeping cock between my thighs begging me to _hurry, hurry, hurry,_ and my fucking fingers didn’t have an ounce of brain to guide them. “Take off that silver dream of a shirt you’re wearing… Do you have any idea there’s a hint of your nipples showing underneath? Merlin, yes… it was driving me crazy the whole, fucking endless evening… You dressed to fuck, Scorpius Malfoy… to fuck or to be fucked…”

“Please…” I gasped, my swollen cock throbbing so violently I was afraid I was going to spill _anyfuckingmomentnow_. Dirty talk was it… it was fucking IT for me, alright, and I knew he was the one person that could make me come with that decadent, filthy mouth alone. There was no doubt in my mind Hugo could tongue-fuck me in more ways than one.

“Stop… oh, yes… now. Like this,” he ordered me when I was about halfway down. He sounded a little out of breath, and I was barely able to stand on my shaky legs.

“Touch your nipples,” he whispered, and from the way his eyes focused on my chest I was sure I was watching Hugo Weasley reveal one of his most private fantasies… and it was a thing of beauty. So I let my fingers brush against the half-aroused buds through my shirt, and from the second his breath hitched, I was addicted. I was going to give him a proper show, just to keep him looking like this – a feral gleam in those incredible blue eyes, his lovely mouth half open in wonder, and the warm, moist, rapid breath teasing my skin from up close. This was for him, and I loved pleasing him.

With that in mind I let my thumbs draw lazy circles around my nubs, but it wasn’t until I pinched them, hard, that he let out his first moan. Merlin, I was a slut for having my nipples teased, and nothing short of having them feel as if they were on fire was ever enough for me. I liked them ravaged, and watching the expression on Hugo’s face transform from pure wonder, that I would do this for him, to hardcore raw lust, when I expertly turned them into solid peaks, made it fucking priceless. When I was done, they were as hard as pebbles and tingling with want against the silk of my shirt.

“ _Jesusfuck_ , Scorp,” he whispered, sounding wanton and breathless, and for a moment there I felt on top of the world that something I did could render Hugo Weasley, my wonderful, dangerous redhead, all but speechless.

“Are they as rosy as I remember them to be… you know, from the showers?” he wanted to know hastily, and when he blushed adorably, a small, gasped laugh escaped me:

“Well, _now_ they aren’t… not anymore… They’re usually so rosy, I can barely see him against my skin – and you know how pale I am. But every morning, when I wake up, I take care of that. I like them red, and hard, and tingling a little… with a hint of pain… just like now… Want to taste them?” I said – mewled, really – on a whim, because I could no longer take the way he was looking at me: hungry, as if he was about to snap and take what he came here to take, and I was such a bloody, needy slut… I craved to give him all.

“May I?” he whispered wantonly, but didn’t even wait for my answer. He sunk down onto his knees in front of me, and when he rubbed his fiery head against my torso in one long, sweeping motion, like a dragon sowing fire, he drew a helpless, inarticulate _“Nnnggghhh…”_ out of me before I could help it. He was so shamelessly beautiful and utterly unforgettable like that, that it sent my cock and my heart into a rabid contest which will burst first.

“I _so_ want to lick them… let me?” he whispered frantically, and this time he was awaiting my permission, and I knew once I gave it, there would be no way back from there.

My eloquence was long gone, and I barely remembered there was such a thing as words. Hugo Weasley was on his knees in front of me, my fingers buried into the silken, flaming hair, the brilliant blue eyes alight for me, and that beautiful… murderous… luscious mouth an inch away from my bursting nipples – given the circumstances I considered my gasped “ _shityeahplease_ , do…” an exceptional effort.

I should have known better, thinking he’d ever leave me in charge. As soon as I gave my consent the large fists tore the rest of my shirt in two, sending the precious-now-worthless buttons flying all over the place. He pulled it off my shoulders, effectively capturing my wrists behind my back with the cuffs of the shirt entangled around them, and such unexpected savagery tore a loud yelp of pleasure at some deeply buried desire getting fulfilled, that I never acknowledged harbouring inside of me. I was born to be dominated, it seemed, and Hugo was a natural. A second later his hungry mouth was around one of my nipples, and the warm breath alone could have done it for me. He kissed it first, tenderly, barely sucking in, and then turned the fiery head and kissed another one, and I mewled most embarrassingly, needing more…

The way the white teeth snapped at it was unexpected and _Jesusfuckyesyes!_ … so fucking welcome. I loved walking the edge of pain, and the way he began working my nipples – scraping teeth, spoiling tongue and that ungodly mouth, sucking like he needed it to live, always just on the right side of painful – he must have guessed that much about me. I loved, loved, _loved_ his mouth on me… I stupidly allowed myself to indulge in my fantasy of having it wrapped around my cock, and the image fried my brain to the point that I actually found myself begging for it, all control over my detached mouth – er, uhm, _whatfuckingcontrol_?!

“Please…” I heard my own pleading voice, sounding like I was on fire. “I need –”

The rest of my pleading drowned in a loud, unabashed _“ohhhhh…”,_ because he was already mouthing the bulge in my pants before I even finished the sentence. It was like he was reading it straight out of my mind, and it would be bloody scary, if it wasn’t so incredibly, brain-meltingly hot. As soon as I felt the moisty heat of his mouth close around the spot in my trousers growing wet from the pre-come, I pulled at the stupid cuffs viciously, not caring what I tore in my one-track-mind desire to free my arms. Finally, god fucking _finally_ , the fabric gave in, and my hands raced to sink into the glossy hair. My fists closed tightly in the sea of silken treasure, because I _needed_ to hold on to something, or I was going to come on the spot. And I was desperate for that not to happen. He’d made me come twice before and I’d never even managed to get my clothes of... fuck, I'd never even seen or touched him properly – and I was dying to.

Our minds must have somehow become intertwined, because his pretty mouth suddenly stopped the mind-shattering ministration as if he had heard an echo of my thoughts in his head, and he sat back onto his heels. His mesmerising eyes were on my face, and the fire in the precious gems was consuming me.

“You need to take your clothes off,” he said, the undertone in his voice dark and untamed. “You’re such poison, Scorpius Malfoy… you’re too bloody gorgeous and I forget myself around you. But you need to strip now, because I’m not doing this without at least seeing you, the whole of you, the whole beautiful naked you, Scorp. Not this time.”

 “Yes… but… I want _you_ to do it,” I stuttered helplessly, because that was all the effort I was capable of. I would eagerly do anything he asked of me, but I wanted his warm, large hands on me so badly, it hurt and I had to at least try and ask for it. He had yet to deny me anything.

“Anything, baby… anything for your pleasure, my prince,” he whispered, and that superficial obedience, hiding a proper beast inside, made my balls ache with yearning. His pretty head approached my absurdly tented trousers and when his sinful mouth sucked in the laces of my trousers and pulled them loose, I blurted a desperate “ _fuckplease_ , Hugh… oh, sweet Merlin…”, unable to stop myself.

“Your wish is my command, Master Malfoy, you know that…” His adept, long fingers twisted the laces of my trousers around them, making the prison of my cock even tighter, and he looked at me, looked at my face, before he sucked his fingers straight into his mouth, and the tension of his mouth pulled me closer. Once his wet fingers emerged out of his glistening mouth, I was already a whimpering mess. I could register nothing outside of the tunnel vision I had on those luscious, damaged lips breathing warm, moisty air all over my mounting crotch, and my skin was prickling in golden sparks of sweet, torturous expectation of the first contact.

Finally, I felt his wet fingers slip behind my arse, tentatively dancing at the edge of the fabric and gently scraping at my crack, making me shiver. Without as much as a warning his hands slipped into my trousers in one liquid motion, getting rid of the annoying tight garment on the way, and Hugo Weasley was cradling my naked arse in his big hands. And I thought I would die of it. My heavy cock, smeared with juices, slipped out of its confines and the unabashed howl of raw lust escaped me just when it slammed straight into the luxury of his ready, warm mouth. _Ohgodfuck_... _ohgodfuck, ohgodfuck, ohgodfuck_ … I could not have imagined the feeling if I wanted to. I had never, ever in my life felt pleasure flood me with such insane intensity, almost as if it wanted to erupt out of my very skin.

The inside of his mouth was wonderfully slippery and warm; the slickness of it felt like heaven, and then there was his tongue… Merlin, even today I can’t think of it without getting hard. I knew he’d never done it before and I tried to hold back – but god help me, once my cock had a taste of the inside of his mouth I was doomed. And he wasn’t trying to stop me, he wasn’t trying to hold me back at all. His gorgeous sensual mouth devoured me whole and when my throbbing shaft hit the back of his throat my eyes literally rolled back in my head. I don’t think my legs would have held me if it wasn’t for those strong hands kneading on my buttocks, casually supporting my weight. Another trip deeply into that wonderfully slick, tight fleshy cage, and that unstoppable heat was already pooling at the pit of my balls. I knew I wouldn’t last – and I was desperate to. There was so much more I wanted to do, to see and to experience. I swore to myself I was done being selfish, and – _fuckMerlinfuck_! – this stupid promise was proving hard to keep.

“ _Fuckpleasebed_ …” I whimpered, unable to say anything right, incapable of being more elaborate and specific. But this was my Hugo and even the only misery I was capable of, was enough. He let go of my cock slowly, and I actually mewled in frustration when he opened his mesmerising eyes, and kissed the melting tip gently, lovingly, capturing the pearly drops with his soft tongue eagerly and lapping at my slit like a hungry ginger kitten.

“ _Jesusfuck_ , Hugh…” I managed, because the sight of him was making me come undone. Being worshiped like this was doing things to me I could not have imagined.

“I love your cock,” he said roughly in a deep, kind of muffled voice, that probably came with having that very same cock slammed down his throat. “I love how you taste, I’m a whore for that sexy, subtle fragrance of yours that makes me hard from three feet away, I love how you lose control when I touch you, and how your cock feels on my tongue. I’m fucking dying to taste your come. I want to suck it out, and drink it and never stop. But I promised,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I promised myself I’m yours for the night, because my one birthday wish was to make you happy. You’re incredibly beautiful when you’re happy. You _glow_. And I… I can’t get enough of it. So, I’m yours, Scorpius Malfoy. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Hugo…” I whispered, my throat suddenly dry, and my eyes wet. I knew a statement of love when I heard one. He might not have said the words, but he might as well have shouted his feelings for me from the rooftops. His one wish was to make my dream come true – how is there a better way to tell someone where your heart was? Moved beyond words, and turned on to the point of shaking with held-back desire, I buried my trembling fingers into the fiery head in front of me, and I tried to find words, broken words, any words to tell him how he made me feel.

Instead, my restless fingers got caught in that elaborate contraption, still holding his silken hair back, however loosely, and on a whim, I released it. I watched spellbound how his glossy long hair spilled down around him like a golden-red halo, and kneeling in front of me, with heavenly blue eyes staring at me from the pale freckled face, Hugo Weasley was the most sublime thing I’d ever seen. My heart ached at his radiance and suddenly those words I couldn’t find before appeared unbidden. 

“I’m only myself when I’m with you,” I said in a shaky voice. “You see me, as I am, with all my faults and shortcomings, and still you care… And I want to ask you one thing, Hugo Weasley: be yourself when you’re with me, because it is that wild, breathtaking, magnificent magical creature that I fell in love with.”

I saw his eyes light up like blue stars when I spoke of love, and he pressed that sensual mouth together as if he didn’t want to spill an emotion tearing him apart, not just yet. He said nothing. He merely closed his eyes and whispered a spell, and a moment later I found myself levitating in the air for a split second, before being gently lowered onto the bed. He was no longer on his knees, but standing by the foot of the bed, observing me for a long moment, before his fingers moved in to remove the silly, lovely suspenders in the most erotic way possible.

“Can I wank?” it burst out of me before I could stop my silly, lust-befuddled tongue. “Oh, please, you need to let me… I’ve been dreaming of this since I first touched you…”

Another press of those generous lips, as if Hugo Weasley had to control himself not to do something he seemed desperate to, but he finally nodded and spoke in that same deep, rough voice:

“As you like, precious, but if you come on your own, you’re going to get punished. I want to be the one that makes you fall apart. Promise?”

“ _Yesohfuckyesss_ …” was the only mess I was capable off, when his fingers slipped to the button of his jeans, and if the bulge in them was anything to go by, I knew I was going to see him, my Hugo, my fantasy, fully erect for the first time.

He took my breath away. _The sight of him took my fucking breath away._ He had the most perfect, most gorgeous, most… _stately_ cock I’ve ever seen on a man, boy, whatever. That fucking thing should have its own Chocolate frog card, seriously. Make that a collection. God, it was a thing of beauty. I never considered myself a cock-fetish boy, for me it was always more about the broad shoulders, muscled thighs, firm arse and those fucking freckles – all the things he – more than anyone else – had in abundance. But I think in that moment I had become one. I still wank to the image of that royal rod – long, purple, thick and perfect, standing proud and firm with a crown of pearls melting at the tip. I suddenly wanted to taste it so badly it made my mouth water.

“Come here,” I said with a dry throat because I think any solid thought I might have had left, melted into goo at the sight. The thought of sucking cock always made me feel a bit tingly and insecure… It certainly had appeal but I was also worried about all the thousand ways I could fuck it up. Well, not anymore. In that moment, the idea of sucking Hugo’s cock became the number one priority of the hour, and I just knew I couldn’t fuck it up, I wouldn’t. 

He stepped out of his jeans like shedding skin and now the only thing on him was my necklace, the golden gem glowing and glittering like captured love just above his heart, and a vast expanse of his gold-freckled skin in the semi-darkness made him seem preternatural, like a god of old. My fingers were itching to touch the subtly glittering velvet, to soak up its warmth at long last. God, I was eager… and _JesusMerlin_ , was I in love…! I crawled to the edge of the bed, still half-clad and not giving a fuck about the state of my disarray, I just wanted to own, to hold, and to taste him at long last.

I cupped his face as soon as I came near enough, and pulled him in a hungry, desperate kiss, because I had to be sure… I had to know this was not some mad, wonderful dream that would break my heart in the morning, but the real thing, as real as the edgy-sweet taste of his mouth, the silken feel of his fiery hair under my fingertips, the unmistakable sex-charged scent of his warm body… God, I loved him. I ached with love for him.

He tilted his head gently to allow my mouth better access and I felt his large hands on my arse, bringing me even closer. I moaned like a bitch in heat into our kiss when our cocks touched and slid against each other like a pair of lovers, aching for forbidden meeting. There wasn’t a breath of space between us, when he set his hips in a tiny rocking motion, and his hands cupping my buttocks wouldn’t allow for any. My quiet whimpers turned into a series of desperate pleas and obscenities, when one of his hands moved between us and massaged my balls. It took everything I was not to come in that moment, but this was a battle I could not win. We were kissing feverishly, and rutting against each other mindlessly in a hopeless attempt to feel and consume as much of each other as our bodies would allow. This was not only about finding release. It was about melting with each other, desperate to become one; it was about finally having a taste of our magic we so hopelessly craved all those long weeks full of denial - it was about finding and claiming the one person that made you complete. I couldn’t get enough of him, I couldn’t… but my teenage body was betraying me.

“Not going… to last…” I gasped when those curious hands casually slipped behind my back and gently brushed against my crack. _Godyesthat_ … I felt a surge of primitive, raw lust slam against whatever strained, quivering knot was still holding my release at bay, and I whimpered like a babe: “Please, Hugo…”

He said nothing, but he broke our kiss for a moment and hastily licked the palm of his hand. It was… _ohgod,_ it was too fucking hot, all right?! I knew what was coming. Once his large hand wrapped around both our cocks, I couldn’t bloody wait. My needy cry left no room for misinterpretation of how much I loved this. My hand shot up and leaned against his mouth as if I was trying to shut him up and he eagerly laved it with that generous tongue, every inch of it, in a way that it nearly made my cock shower him with come. I decided it was wet enough, just fucking wet enough, before he made me shoot all over myself by sucking on my fucking fingers… _JesusMerlinChrist_ , who does that…?! My hand rushed to join his in a hot cave between our bodies, and as soon as our fingers intertwined I knew this was it. It was too fucking perfect. I loved fucking his mouth, I was in love with the idea of sucking his cock - and I would have all of that… later. Right now, this was what I wanted. I wanted to be pressed against his body, I wanted to feel the whole of him. My Hugo. _Mine_.

My cock was rutting against his in the tight cage made of our hands, and it was wet and slick with his juices and my own oozing shaft. The silken feel of his hard flesh next to mine was incredible, and those long fingers provided the maddening, fast-paced friction that was driving me absolutely fucking spare. I was stammering a string after string of broken curses and endearments all alike and I must have been seconds from coming when he leaned into me, and slowly sunk his teeth in that sweet spot above my pulse.

“My Scorpius,” he whispered gently into the hint of pain. “My love.”

And I just broke. All my promises aside, I could no longer hold it. My balls tensed impossibly, and erupted in one single burst of insane pleasure so violent, I simply blacked out. The last thing I remember was my cock spurting come like a mad volcano, and my yelped “Hugo… _ohgodHugh_ …!!” was nothing but a fading echo… And then it was all black, and tingly with absolute pleasure, and perfect. Just fucking perfect. As far as I could tell, I had been born again in Heaven.

The next thing I remember was the feeling of soothing hands sliding down my back, holding me up and together, and a small million of tender kisses pressed in the side of my neck. I felt boneless, wrecked, loved and perfectly happy. He must have heard me gasp for breath, because he murmured _“All right, love?”_ into my ear and I was still trying to get my erratic breathing under control for long enough to answer. But instead of a proper answer, the first folly jumped out of my mouth:

“I didn’t see you come. Merlin, Hugh…”

And as soon as the words were out, I realised what I was missing. Merlin, was I a disappointment to myself or what?! Couldn’t I have been a little more tenacious for once?!

“Shhhh,” he said quietly and kissed the self-deprecating words I had ready out of mouth, those lush lips making something in at the pit of my balls stir that had no business rearing its head up so soon. “Not too late for that… if you want...”

I literally pulled his head back by the hair, because I didn’t have a fucking chance of breaking our kiss out of my own sheer will – but I had to see with my own eyes, hoping against hope, that I didn’t misunderstand what he was trying to say…

And there it was. His gorgeous, hard cock in all its glory, still fully erect and smeared with my come – and so fucking tempting it made my knees fold.

“Ohhhh…”

I was kneeling in front of him before I had any rational concept of what I was doing. I never took myself as a cock-whore, but goddammit, this… _perfect_ shaft had me gagging for it. The thought of taking it into my mouth, in, forever deeper, until I could almost touch the fine carpet of golden-red hairs framing it, literally made my mouth water. I licked it probingly, tasting the tingling, bitter-sweet mess of my own come and his juices, and sucking lightly I was spreading it slowly down his length, all the way down to his balls.

“Scorp… Merlin… ohhh…” It was the quietest of moans, but also a most helpless one, and it gave me a boost like a motherfucker. I went all in on it. I sucked him in greedily, and I nearly had to gasp for breath at the same time, because he was too fucking big and such a perfect fit for my mouth that air had no business competing for room in the tight, wet cavern. He mewled like a kitten, and for some reason that made me forget about my own comfort, and the little details like having to breathe. I ate him hungrily, swallowing his cock all the way down, falling in love with the taste and with the way it filled my mouth with its heaviness and throbbed on my tongue. And I absolutely loved, loved, _loved_ the sounds he was making: something between gasped panting and helpless cries of pleasure, that made him sound as if he never expected it to actually happen, let alone to feel this good.

Because he left no doubt about how much he loved it – it took just one of his delicious moans paired with those long fingers taking a firm hold in my hair, and all of my insecurities about my ability to suck cock just went up in flames. I was determined I was going to turn out a goddamn cock-sucking Level: Expert just for him. And I only had to look at him to know I was headed in the right direction: that lean taut body was arched backwards, covered in a thin sheen of perspiration that made him look as if he was glowing silver in the moonlight, the way he threw his head back made the flaming waterfall of his long glossy hair reach all the way down to the round globes of his buttocks, and that gorgeous monster of an arse was moving in the lightest of rocking motions as if he was desperate to fuck my face, but didn’t trust himself not to hurt me… _JesusMerlin_ , he was a vision…

I felt my own cock swell and turn heavy at the sight of him, and I promptly decided I didn’t want any more of that safe thing. I loved him for the wonderful, wild creature he was, and I was going to have the raw, brilliant, ruthless, untamed Hugo he truly was come out to meet me, no safety nets allowed. So, I took him out of my mouth and the way he groaned-whimpered miserably, I knew he must have been close. My mouth immediately felt empty without its delicious heavy charge, but I was going to get it all back, with interest, so it was worth it.

I slowly traced the pulsating vein on his shaft with a series of small, hungry licks, and the way he moaned had me so worked up, I blurted out without another second of delay:

“I want you to fuck my face.”

I’d surprised myself with my own dark, raw-sounding voice of a seasoned cock-eater when I was anything but. But from the way his fingers pulled on my hair and he nearly stopped breathing, I could tell it was a ridiculous turn-on for him. I had no reservations left. I hastily babbled out the rest:

“I want you to do it for real, like… no holding back. I’ll take it hard and I’ll take it deep, Hugo. I need to feel your force… I love your force, Hugh,” I whispered, because his fingers in my hair had already clenched into fists, and a moment later I was rendered silent and gasping for breath by that gorgeous cock that slammed into my mouth like there was no tomorrow.

“Is that force enough for you, my beautiful blond angel?” he whispered, and I hummed around his cock to tell him – show him – that _yessss!!!_ – this was exactly what I was after. I might have felt the tears welling in my eyes from the way his massive cock nearly blocked my airway and triggered my gagging reflex, but _ohmotherfuckinggod_ , this… this _challenge_ and sweet torture was my choice of poison.

“God, you’re such a decadent little thing…” he hissed, and I could feel him finally give up the last of his restraints. “Fucking… broken… little angel… I love breaking you, precious… I love filling your mouth, gorgeous, I love making a mess out of your pristine, pale beauty… Merlin, if only you knew how much you turn me on… with that classy perfection… and that sexy smile and a hungry look of a needy whore you fuck me with from the distance…”

I moaned with that very utter need around his cock. He was mind-fucking me and I barely had any self-control left to take it. The taste of his slick, naked head forcing into the back of my throat was already doing miracles to my own desperate cock, and now this… It was too bloody embarrassing how much I got off on the idea of being punished and wrecked by the boy who had become my master in everything but the name. I worshiped him. I was on my knees for him, worshipping him with the uncompromising, obsessive love I could not have imagined. I worshipped his cock knocking the breath out of me, I worshipped the feeling of his gorgeous arse riding my mouth with brutal, unchecked force, I worshipped that beastly, overpowering sex scent of him, caught in the golden-red carpet of his pubic hairs I got to inhale like a madman. And I absolutely _loved_ the idea of making him come undone.

“So close, angel…” he whimpered when l decided that my raw throat needed a break, and I focused on the swollen tip of his cock instead, nearly buzzing with a rush of blood and juices pressing against it. I knew I had to be gentle, so I sucked on it lightly, and lapped at the pearly liquid melting on my tongue, loving the bittersweet taste of it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” he said in a shaky, desperate voice when I rolled his shaft in my mouth a little, because it turned me on like a motherfucker knowing I was playing so close to the edge. “This fuckable, pouty mouth of yours… too fucking gorgeous for a boy… You’re every boy’s and girl’s fantasy, Scorp… How did you ever pick me, love? You could have had anyone…”

“I only want you,” I breathed around the tip of his cock, swirling my tongue all around the sensitive flesh like I was starved of it. “I only want the best… _you_... I want you. My blue-eyed god with fire in his hair and mouth of a devil… I worship you… I dream of you… I barely remember how to breathe around you… Ever since we first kissed, I’ve only wanked to the image of you, only you… I’ve fucked my fist every single night, Hugo Weasley, thinking of you, remembering what we did, and fantasising of more… of what I’d love to do to you and to that lovely sweet mouth of yours… I’m always whispering your name when I’m near, I can’t hold it back, I can’t… I’m so fucking crazy about you, Hugh…”

“Scorpius!!! God, baby…”

The way he fisted my hair tightly, roared my name, and slammed his cock in my mouth, filling it to the brim with his come… Merlin, this sight of him was going to be my new star wanking memory for the years to come. I had no idea how it had come to that, but I nearly shot my load as well. I was so focused on him, I barely noticed how unbearably hard I’d become, but watching him fall apart in all his savage beauty, made the tight, urgent pressure in my balls impossible to ignore.

I couldn’t really hold back from touching my own begging cock, leaking heavily and making a mess out of me. The mindless rutting against the sheets was no longer enough, and I wanted to come again, badly. I wrapped my fingers around my throbbing shaft, and pushed the swollen, needy flesh into the tight tunnel of my fist – and just as I groaned at the promise of delight with my mouth still around Hugo’s cock, there was a breathless: “No!” – and I knew just what I had done. Shit. That stupid promise…

I knew I shouldn’t have, but I thought he’d be out of it the way I was, that perhaps I had some time to take the edge of, I needed it so much… But I actually whimpered when I looked up into the blue starlight of his eyes.

“A promise is a promise…” he said quietly, and somehow he made it sound so menacing that my nipples got fully-blown and pebble-hard from the dark shade of his voice. “I told you this was for me... If you wanted to come again, you only had to ask – but now you left me no choice. What am I supposed to do with you, Scorpius Malfoy? Care to choose your own punishment, my lovely sweet-mouthed devil?” he asked softly, his long fingers threading gently through my hair, promising danger and my own surrender. And my skin just prickled, charged from my ears all the way to my toes, with the one answer I didn’t even have to think about.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, my voice shaking and absolutely fucking desperate for it. “Fuck me, Hugo. It’s all I want. I chose you, I want you…”

He slammed me backwards onto the bed with that arcane force that dwelled inside of him, and I whimpered from the sheer joy of being subjected to it. _MerlinChrist_ , I was a pervert… I just loved being on the wrong side of the power-play… He was on top of me instantly, that hard, long body covering me from head to toe, just like that first, stupid time when I wanted to fight it, and my isolated whimpers turned into a panted string of pleading obscenities. He tore the rest of my clothes of without minding what wreckage he left behind, and that beautiful savagery nearly had my balls bursting. My senses were drowning in the proximity of that silken sweat-and-sex scented skin, and I was practically keening to be taken, broken, and owned. I was craving to show him he owned me, for all the times I was a coward and I passed up on the opportunity, and I needed him to know just how much I wanted to belong to him.

And because he was Hugo fucking Weasley, my beloved, wonderful, super-sentient Hugh, who practically lived in my head, he just… knew. He leaned down to plunder my mouth, and he did it roughly, with that uncompromising raw force that cared nothing about the damaged lips, bruised and swollen from too much nibbling and pulling, nor did it mind the clashing teeth and those aggressive breath-taking kisses with tongue-fucking so deep and intense it felt as if he was licking my fucking balls directly. It was quickly becoming impossible not to come.

“Baby… please…” I mewled into his mouth after a particularly brain-melting exchange of frantic, dirty kisses that made the entire world look unfocused. “I need to… soon…”

“You little cheat… I should do the opposite… and leave you...” he grunted into my hungry, insatiable mouth, and the very thought made me whimper and suck on his tongue as if I wouldn’t live another minute without it.

“… perhaps I would…” he added, and his mouth found my neck, that fucked up sensitive spot under my ear that made my toes curl and made me mewl like a kneazle.

“Don’t… can’t take…”

“Oh, you know very well that I can’t, my lovely…” he murmured as he moved down my neck and sucked on my pulse point, hard, so hard, that he probably saved my cock from spontaneous eruption. “I’m too poisoned by you, my lovely silver-eyed prince. I’d be punishing myself… and it’s my fucking birthday and you’re my favourite… cuddly… kinky little present, so precious… _so very mine_ …”

“So you won’t… leave me?” I gasped when he silently guided my arms to the headrest, and I understood his silent command and I kept them there, holding onto the railing with my hands, turned on beyond belief.

“So I won’t…” he confirmed before he buried his fiery head onto my chest and I cried out in the incredible sensation of his warm, lush mouth latching onto my nipple. “But I need you to be a good boy…”

_Merlinfuck_ , he really excelled at this... His white, sharp teeth held my nipple captive, while the hungry tongue flickered across it, again and again, brushing it into a tight, red peak, and it was making my body arch up in offering as if the very centre of my pleasure was just under the bursting little pebble, and he would delve right into it with that insatiable, ungodly tongue any moment now. And just when I thought I could no longer take it, he moaned around my nipple sensually, let it out with an obscene pop and moved on to the other little thing, greedy for his attention, while his calloused fingers replaced his mouth, turning me into a sex-crazed whimpering mess with their firm pressure.

The thick, pressurised heat crawling up my body from somewhere deep inside my belly was slowly turning unstoppable.

“Please…” I whimpered. If I could only touch myself… My cock was lying stiff against my belly, thick and throbbing something mad, leaking hard, like it was desperate to tempt me into touching it again. The brainless, blathering mess that I was, I’d give half of my inheritance to be able to wank at that moment. I needed to bring this agonising pleasure-seeking to an end, and I fucking needed it eons ago.

“Such a patient, good little boy,” my red-haired devil whispered unexpectedly, and suddenly his generous, soft mouth was locked around the tip of my cock, and sucked gently… And it just knocked me out of my bloody rails.

 “ _Fuckplease_ , _ohyeahplease_ … suck me… please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t you fucking… no, Hugh, _please_ –”

His wonderful talented mouth let go of my hard, begging cock just when I could almost feel the waves of pleasure curling at my balls, but his fist closed around the base of my cock roughly, cutting my pulsating wet shaft off its juices and all I was left with was the sound of my whimpers and a string after string of obscene curses released in frustration. I wanted to come so badly, that I wanted to _hurt_ him.

“Not yet. You chose your punishment, precious,” he growled into the sensitive flesh of my thigh before his gorgeous lush mouth found it and made me spread my legs for him like a wanton whore, with a needy scream.

“That’s my baby…” he whispered between a shower of decadent kisses scattered all around the tender area of my arse and inner thighs, cleverly gripping the base of my cock tightly or I would have spurted my load two feet up in the air already. “That’s my pretty, needy boy… so good, so incredibly _delicious_ … I think… I just might want to _eat_ you…”

“Fu-fuuuuck, Hugo… _ohfuckbabypleasegodfuckyeah_ …” was the beginning and the end of my eloquence once that pretty face sunk into a little spot between his fingers, holding my arse-cheeks apart, and the luscious tongue swept across my needy, pulsing hole lightly, like wet butterfly wings… and then again with slow, torturous delight… and again and again, going bolder and delving deeper every time around until he was tongue fucking me good and proper, and I was rapidly going mental with raw, unabashed, unsatisfied lust.  

You know, I tried touching myself _there_ a couple of times, out of curiosity, and it was nice enough to make me want to try more – but this… This epic delirium caused by his piercing tongue wasn’t even in the same category. I shamelessly tried to impale myself onto that tongue, my arse grounding against his mouth like there was no tomorrow, and my vocabulary reduced to nothing but a litany of mean, threatening, needy-as-fuck curses. That was it, I was ready to hex him if he wasn’t going to let me come. If only the coronary didn’t strike me first.

“Merlin, you’re a sight,” he breathed seductively across my sensitive hole when he swirled his tongue around it as if reluctant to say goodbye. “I reckon you’ve earned it. Ready, baby? This might hurt… but I’m told it’s only a little…”

 “Don’t – care – don’t – fucking – care!” I growled, nearly crying for real from the roaring, painful anticipation of pleasure that was building behind his fist, still mercilessly locked around my swollen, dripping shaft. “Need… you… inside…”

And that was all it took.

“Anything for you, love…” he whispered, and in the next moment I felt the intrusion I craved so badly. It took my breath away. Long fingers massaged my entrance enticingly, until one of them pressed deeper and disappeared on the inside. _JesusMerlin_ , that was… different. I heard myself gasp and my body tense, but he would have none of it.

“Shhhhh...” he whispered soothingly. “It’s all right, baby, it’s supposed to pass soon… Would you like to stop, precious? Just say the word.”

“No!” I rushed, because he already set his wrist to twist in maddening little circles and – fuuuuuuck!!! He _touched_ something… found, and pressed, and brushed against something inside of me that made my arse grind into the sacrilegious finger in beastly pleasure, and nearly made my hips fly off the surface only to impale myself deeper, _there_ , again… Suddenly that… _full_ , “ _oh-my-god-what-am-I-doing?!”_ feeling morphed into and entirely different “ _oh-Merlin-fuck-yes-more!”_ sensation that was spreading from the bottom of my tense, hard balls in all directions, threatening it was going to be a force to be reckoned with. I was keening with hopeless, mindless lust.

“More!” I finally croaked breathless, reckless and desperate to the point of folly. Whatever fear I had left had been replaced by feverish anticipation of whatever was coming, and when his second finger joined the first, I only mewled shortly, and hoped the burning feeling will pass swiftly and I can have that other, deep, maddening sensation back again. Clearly the heat pooling at the pit of my belly wasn’t going anywhere, and two of those slowly-moving fingers, scissoring my wet hole open, and moving in different directions, opened a whole bunch of new worlds to my imagination. I made it this far, didn’t I, I wasn’t going to quit now.

“More… _Merlinfuck_ , Hugh!” I yelped when his fingers stilled for a second as if he was giving me a moment to reconsider.

“Getting there,” he murmured, and chuckled softly. “Looks like my lovely patient boy disappeared under the mean fingers, and now my little monster angel is back, demanding his due… I love it when you’re so needy you can’t take it, love… But we need to do this right. I’d hate myself if I ruined it for you.”

He muttered something – clearly a spell, full of incomprehensible words I’d never heard before – but the result was glorious: his fingers suddenly felt warm and smooth, dressed in a transparent liquid so slippery they nearly slipped out of my arse. From his smug expression, I could guess this was no ordinary magic.

“Invented that one myself,” he murmured with quiet, dangerous determination. “I had time enough… I spent my every evening thinking about fucking you… long and hard… stupidly wanting and yearning with no hope… dreaming about you, about every detail… and wanking, god, yes… in my head I already had you a thousand times, and now I can… I really can, and I will. But you’re so infinitely better in flesh, Scorpius Malfoy… you make my head spin, you fragile, classy little angel with a devil in those silver eyes of yours… So you see, I can’t have you hurt, love. I won’t.”

“Jesus, Hugh…” I managed a helpless whimper, but he unexpectedly leaned across me and took my breath away with his hungry mouth: “How about this, sweetheart, better now?”

Without a warning, he had added a finger and for a moment, my chest stilled. _JesusMerlin_ , it was tight. Tight and tense and just on the edge of what I could take. He was filling me up completely, moving ever so slightly, and the urge to be filled deeper, harder, _entirely_ , hit me like a fucking train.

“Get inside me!” I gasped, already riding his fingers for more of the glorious friction and that fullness I never knew I needed in my life. “Get in, get in, get the fuck in and give it to me!”

“Fuck… yeah…” was the only wanton answer, and when he pulled those glorious, magical fingers out, I screamed angrily in sudden frustration. But it was just a moment. A second later, I felt that glorious perfect cock entering me, and I felt like the fucking king had arrived, everything moved inside me to accommodate him. _Godfuck_ , he was big… I could feel his shaft throb when he was barely past the ring of my muscles, and when he ground his teeth and look at me darkly, I understood it took all of his self-control to be doing this slow. He was holding it back for me, clearly set on sparing me the pain… but I was done with slow and careful, pleasant and safe. I wanted to fuck. I wanted him to fuck me. Hard, and crazy and wonderful, like no one else could. I fucking _wanted_ the pain, if pain meant he was inside me, falling apart, taking me, owning me. I invited it, welcomed it and would take as much of it as he had to give… anything to become one with him. I would be his whatever it took.

I sought out his gorgeous, generous mouth again to persuade him… to show him, to tell him how badly I needed him, only to discover that I had no language left, but the crudest form:

“Fuck me, Hugh,” I hissed and whined, sounding possessed, seven kinds of bewildered and on fire. “Fuck me. Fucking take me apart. I need it. I need _you_. Need you to fill me and fuck me until I can’t bloody talk, think and move without you, without falling apart. Need you _now_ … deep and hard… just the way you dreamed of…. need to feel you. I want you so deep you can no longer find your way out… Need to be you… _ohhhhh!!!_ ”

He growled like an animal, and slammed into me without a warning, with no control, literally nailing me into the mattress, and for a second there it all went black from an overload of sensation. I heard a wanton scream and I had a hunch it was me, because an invasion like this had to have pushed something out of me… some sign of reverence, some random sound of devotion and fucking worship of the wondrous, magical boy that brought me to my knees like no one else could. It was only a split second, but a whole Universe of feelings, sensations and emotions, invaded me from the inside, and the very time seemed to come to a halt. I was having a near mystical experience.

_Goditwastight_ … and perfect… and full… and it was all there. The beloved masterful body on top of me, the way I didn’t even dare to dream of, warm and big and wonderfully close… so fucking beautiful in the moonlight it made my heart clench with vicious possessive love. That soft mouth playing with mine, stealing kisses innocent kisses that set me on fire, and eating the sounds of my desire right out of their source. _Those eyes_ … those heavenly eyes lit up like precious sapphire gems, predatory, hungry and somehow filled with so much love it, knocked the very breath out of me. To be on the receiving side of such love… love coming from _this_ heart I felt beating against my chest… from this magnificent, fearless, passionate heart I fell so in love with I literally sold my soul to be worthy of it… I could barely comprehend it, yet my own heart understood and ached to consume what he had to give.

A blink and it was all gone, and I found myself stretched to the fullest, offering myself to my blue-eyed god, arching backwards for more of that fucking incredible, mind-blowing friction, that had such an undoing effect on me. I needed more… Merlin, how I needed more! He read my body language like a book and his magnificent hips shot forwards, pushing a desperate pleading out of my mouth.

“Yesssss… now… move… please… Hugo… please…”

I locked my legs around him frantically, and yelped with insane joy when he actually slipped another inch deeper into me.

“Now!” I gasped, incoherent in mind and thought, possessed by a savage desire to be owned, marked, branded and fucked apart. I clenched all the muscles I could force around him and yelped a guttural, pleading _“Move!!! Fucking move… move, please, baby, move… oh, yes… yesyesyesyesyes… ohgodyes, like this!!!”_

_Jesusfuck_ , was he a force of nature, or what?! He slammed into me with a force that moved the bed and made the chips of cheap paint crumble and fall from the wall, and I hollered in almost beastly pleasure. Oh, god, this was so _right_! And then he did it again… and again and again and again… hammering his brutal, steel cock into me, curving his body to fit mine and angling his hips to reach that spot… that very spot that nearly tore the arch of my body in two, and made me scream myself raw. I was bathing in sweat and my fucking arms hurt from clenching to the bed railing as if it was a fucking religion, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I was a right proper mess, and I was in heaven.

I had a passing thought that not only was this room was clearly soundproof or they’d be calling Aurors already, but it must have been earthquake proof as well: the way we abused the fucking bed was going to leave the wobbly walls cracked, and people downstairs running for cover! I barked a short, mad laughter at the thought, but at the same time I keened straight into that cock massaging that sweet place of madness inside me, that made me see white flashes in front of my eyes. I reckoned I wouldn’t be able to walk for days… I wouldn’t be able to breathe, and talk and function without that body on top of mine, commanding my every move and thought, making me want to merge with the wonderful creature that lived inside it, and never leave.

“So fucking close, Hugh….” I gasped when that gorgeous instrument of torture slammed against my prostate again and my balls tightened impossibly. “Please, Hugo…”

I didn’t know what I was begging for – he was already giving me his everything and then some, but that fucking Malfoyian greed ached for a proof, for the one last binding element that would tell me he was as mine as I was his, that there was no way back from this, that this was it, that we were it.

His big, warm hands suddenly covered mine, still glued to the railing, and our fingers intertwined. Hugo Weasley, my redheaded god was covering my arching torso with the wonderful warm blanket of his hard muscles, and my weeping, pulsating, begging cock, caught between the silken carpet of our bodies, never stood a chance.

“My angel… I’m in love with you, my silver-eyed angel…” he whispered into my hungry, expectant mouth, and I cried out, because _yessss_ , this is what I wanted, this… this is what I needed desperately in that exact moment. “I can’t even begin to tell you… I loved you since I first saw you on that train station and you never noticed me… and I’m so fucking bonkers about you now I don’t which way is up when you smile at me… fuck, I don’t even have words… why don’t I have words?! I want to tell you so much… and show you… and never share you with anyone… I’d love you and never let go if only you’d have me, Scorpius Malfoy...”

“Fuck… Hugo… I… love… yes, harder… there… oh, god, there… _don’t let go, Hugo_ …”

My body was already moving completely in tune with his, nothing but a slave to the savage rhythm of his hips, accentuating every word, as if Hugo Weasley wanted to write them into the very depths of me. I was tense like a bow underneath him. Stretched to the very edge of golden ecstasy, I could nearly feel brushing against the bristling, cracking shell of me, and my crumbling thoughts seemed to be buzzing in my ears and in front of my unseeing eyes. The tide of unbearable lust and all that fucking love I could no longer contain was vortexing inside me like finger-of-god-tornado, that was going to consume me and leave nothing whole behind. I knew that was the moment.

“I love you…” I suddenly blurted out – screamed out, really – and it was as if a bloody dam had opened, filled with crumbled words I couldn’t say fast enough. “I love you, I fucking love you, I love you, Hugh. No one else…. for me… You… my Hugh… mine. Yesss… I… you… inside… together… us… please… _fuckingpleasebaby_ …”

“Scorp… fuck, angel… I can’t… take it… going to…”

I howled his name as he slammed into the very centre of me and started spilling, and I think it was the sight his gorgeous face lit up with absolute bliss, that finally shoved me over the top and plunged me into that perfect timeless Universe of black and ecstatic, where I could never go without him. The brutal, unforgiving pleasure buried me underneath like a massive tidal wave, all the way to the tips of my curling toes and hard-clenching arse, pouring like a geyser out of my spurting cock and radiating out of my very skin as if it was contagious. I could feel my chest resonate with my unabashed howls of lust and love, and I felt his teeth buried in the crook of my neck, only adding to my overwhelming, primal ecstasy. Every hot, erratic breath of wonder and completion against my damaged skin filled me glorious, perverse delight. I could barely breathe, yet I wanted to laugh and cry, and bury myself inside his body and embrace and never come out. I one single fuck, Hugo Weasley ruined me for everyone else. I fell apart completely. No one could ever top how he made me feel. And if I was lucky, no one would ever get a chance.

It seemed too soon, way too soon, when he finally made a move to slip out of me, so I mewled like a spoiled kitten and would have none of it.

“Not yet,” I begged, feeling as if I would lose something priceless; crack some bubble of quiet, fragile happiness I was not willing to give up yet.

“But you could get hurt… I think,” he said quietly, even as he humoured me.

“Don’t care,” I mumbled, knowing full well that I’ll be sore as fuck and stubbornly ignoring it. “Just a bit longer. I love feeling you inside.”

“Silly…” he whispered gently, and kissed me under the ear lovingly. “I might have made some plans to come back, you know,” he added in a naughty tone, and – as boneless as I was – I sought out his mouth hungrily to show him how seriously I was willing to take those plans. And it wouldn’t be my Hugo if he didn’t use my outpour of infatuation to pull out without even a warning. Oh, blast… I winced without meaning to, because the mean burning feeling was back, with a vengeance, and this time there was no purpose behind it. But I could take the pain. What I loathed, immediately and more than I could put into words, was the feeling of being so empty. I wanted… I _needed_ my Hugo back, more of him. Oh, boy, I should have known I would have it bad once I had a taste of him! I had a terribly hard time letting go.

But I counted all my stars when I figured out he had no intention of getting rid of me. He merely rolled off me to lie on his back, next to me, and a second later he opened his arms. Boy, was I happy! With a huge, stupid grin I slipped into his embrace, my head buried somewhere between his shoulder and the crook of his neck, and my arm thrown across his flat, hard stomach, I got comfortable. This was going to be my favourite position, I could already tell. Lying in his arms like this, I could cuddle up against him all I liked, feel him, taste him and inhale his wild, addictive, sex-laced fragrance of male musk and warm, radiant skin, and I never wanted it to be over. I was too tired to even think, but I had to find a way to make it last… I had to.

“You promised to tell me how you’d done it… you know, with the charmed candies,” I spoke on a whim, and I couldn’t believe how lazy and bloody _sated_ I sounded. Even my voice sounded properly shagged out! I loved how his chest resonated under my cheek when he chuckled.

“Wasn’t that hard…” he mumbled, but I would have none of it. I desperately needed to distract him from thinking all the wrong thoughts such us _“What happens now?”_ or – god forbid – _“Perhaps we should be leaving…”_ – and I was genuinely curious to boot, so I pulled on the nearest silken strand of his hair and pouted, just the way I knew he liked it:

“Like hell it wasn’t! Unless you had us all confounded – or you left it all to coincidence, which is absolutely fucking scary! – what you did out there, Hugo Weasley, was some wickedly orchestrated display of magic and manipulation! And I want to know all the dirty details!”

“You know a good magician never gives up all the secrets of the trade,” he teased me, but when he tilted his head down to kiss me – the chance I eagerly jumped at – I knew he was going to humour me once again. I loved how he let me have my way. It always made me feel privileged and special.

“Well, there was a certain amount of coincidence allowed,” he said a bit breathless when our kiss ended with my protesting moan and his naughty grin, and I was settled in my favourite spot again. “You see, with that many people at the table, there were too many variables to consider. I had some idea as to what might appeal to whom, but mostly, I didn’t care what most of them got. In hindsight, I would have probably liked to spare Lily the experience,” he said thoughtfully, and there was genuine regret in his voice for a second. “But to be efficient, I only had to focus on two things of importance: you had to pick the jelly bean with Make-A-Wish charm because… I needed to know; and James… regardless of the result, James had to take the one with the sleeping potion.”

“But why?” I wanted to know, suddenly perplexed. “Suppose you were… not happy with the results of my Make-A-Wish – why would you still have any interest in stopping James? Wouldn’t it be the ultimate revenge…”

I choked. I couldn’t even say it. Lying here, by his side, inhaling his delicious scent and warmth, all the way dazed and stupidly happy, the idea of making love to anyone other than him, gave me the shivers. With my Hugo, being vulnerable and intimate as only having sex would make one, came as natural. But to be doing it with James… oh, Merlin, what was I thinking?! In that moment, it was entirely incomprehensible. Hugo had once again saved me from myself.

“I love you far more than you know,” he said quietly. “You told me you didn’t want James to be your first and I wasn’t going to watch you ruin yourself, precious. I can’t be happy, when you’re not,” he said simply, and this time God couldn’t stop me from launching myself at him and snogging him good and proper.

“Silly,” he whispered into my mouth. “Why would I want to destroy such a thing of beauty?”

“Shut up, or we’re never leaving this room,” I whimpered, because against all odds, his magical mouth was sending those invincible sparks of lust across my skin, and I was beginning to wonder if I really cared for his explanation that much… it was in the past anyway… why did it matter? Why did anything matter outside of this wonderful little world we made for ourselves in each other’s arms? He chuckled softly into our kiss and it was enough to wake me up from my infatuated daze. Oh, but I was scandalously shaken up, not just stirred! Where did the rational Scorpius go, the one that usually pulled the strings, lead the game and went out of his way to stay in charge?! This love-stricken fool that took his place was nothing like him!

“I’m such a love-stricken fool for you,” I suddenly blurted out, and shocked myself silly. “I hardly know my name around you.”

“But I _love_ my little love-stricken fool,” he murmured enticingly, and plundered my mouth some more as if he was trying to make sure I wouldn’t know which way was up once he was done with me. “You’re my favourite love-stricken fool in the entire planet… oh, make that a galaxy…”

“But… but… oh, hell, Hugo… we need to… I need…”

I shut up because I embarrassingly wanted to end this sentence with _“… you to fuck me”_ and, oh Merlin in golden socks, but I was turning into a proper concubine! I really couldn’t have that! So, I mumbled a miserable _“I need my brain back, thank you very much!”,_ which made him giggle, and let go off my mouth after all. Not that I was all too happy with this mission complete…

“So, I… god, Hugo, you scramble my brain – where were we?!” I whined, silently cursing my Malfoyian need for control in the sudden awareness of a fresh hard-on I was sporting.

“Uhm… I suppose you still want to know how I did it?” he suggested helpfully, but the naughty, happy spark was still dancing in his blue eyes and I was duly reminded that he knew how to drive me mental in a most infuriating way.

“Right, yes, that…” I mumbled, still not caring _that_ much. Talking… and knowing… and things that aren’t sex are totally overrated when you’re a horny teenager, I’d have you know! Luckily, he had more self-control than I did.

“The thing is, other than the original charms and potions I put in our sweet little treats, there wasn’t _that_ much magic involved,” he proceeded calmly. “I don’t only play with magic, you see. I also play with my knowledge of people. And people at the table were nearly all my family – with two blond exceptions,” he smiled, and I quietly gritted my teeth at the memory how close he let the Scamander trash just to teach me a lesson.

“Once I made the candy, the tricky bit was to let Al notice it on the table in the common room – I knew he’d deliver it once he did. I didn’t want to be the one. If I did it, if I had brought the candy along, everyone would immediately cry bloody murder… well, at least Rose might have. Therefore, I made sure I didn’t come out as a guilty party. No one would be able to tell how carefully I planned this once I took my chances with Al’s curiosity. So, I let him spot me fool around with the colourful batch a couple of times, at one point I even hid it from his sight very obviously to spike his interest – and in the end I left the sweets on the table, half-wrapped my shirt, and near my shoes. Uhm, I suppose it was a fair guess no one would dare touch anything of mine, not with a foul intent anyway,” he smiled smugly, and I was mentally nodding my head off. I know I wouldn’t. If it had any mark of Hugo’s on it, I was surprised they didn’t evacuate the castle.

“But I know Al, yeah?” he said confidently. “He’s curious like a proper Weasley and daring just like Uncle Harry. Once I put a glitter charm over the sweets strong enough to make them glow in the dark, I knew he would not be able to resist them. He had a good chance of finding out what they were if he was to bring them after me – no malicious intent, just open curiosity – and that’s just what he did.”

“Impressive,” I breathed – and it was. Clearly, Hugo was a massive risk-taker, but it was almost scary how very much on the point his assumptions and projections usually were. It shouldn’t really surprise me. He was so intuitive, he practically lived inside my head – and his super-sensory talents were obviously not limited to me. But still…

“Did you have any back-up plan?” I wanted to know, and he chuckled in amusement.

“What do you mean? Like thumping James on the head and running away with you? Sure, that was going to be my last resort,” he teased me and then _I_ thumped him on the forehead lightly, so he laughed some more. I loved his laughter, I was seriously considering some more playful abuse just to hear it!

“Nah… it was just this,” he finally replied casually, and I could barely supress a shiver at the thought of how many things could have gone wrong. But then there was this other, adamant, scarily intense look in his eyes, and I shivered for entirely different reason. It excited me beyond reason to spot a glimpse of that savage power that resided in him.

“You see, half of my success lies in my determination,” he said with quietly. “I decide I’ll have something done – come hell or high water – and I do it. When I want something, I don’t care about the price I have to pay. And tonight, I wanted to make your dream come true,” he said simply, and my chest nearly shattered under a surge of overwhelming love. I snuggled as close up to him as I could manage, and pressed my cheek against his torso. Merlin, I loved this! Hearing his powerful heartbeat resonate in his chest was quickly becoming my favourite sound on the planet. I could feel him looking at me, and then he ruffled my hair affectionately, the way I wouldn’t let _anyone_ else do it, and picked up his explanation.

“Once I knew what I wanted to do, it wasn’t that complicated. Take Rose, for example. I knew she’d be intrigued by the runes, and I kind of hoped that she would get the Splendour one – but even if she didn’t. She would have been all right with Veritaserum – better than Lils, that’s for sure! – love potion or Instant Courage. Same goes for Lysander, Al and Lily – for my purpose it didn’t matter what any of them got, their spiked sweets were a little more than a distraction. And as for Lorcan…” he looked me in the eye and smiled that lopsided grin at the sight of me gritting my teeth.

“I got a chance to know him rather well in the few weeks he decided I was worthy of his attention. This boy is all about the surface and reputation and such rot. Whatever true essence he might have under that glamorous shell, it doesn’t seem to matter to him. I knew he would be the first to volunteer and the last to go. I figured that there was no way in hell he would go near the candies once he understood that their effect wasn’t just a momentary one.”

“He’s a coward!” I exploded, and the hatred that coloured my voice surprised even myself. “A coward, and a slut and I don’t know…”

“Hey,” he stopped me effectively by tilting my face towards him and kissing further insults out of my mouth. “I didn’t choose him, remember? He chose me. I only encouraged him when it suited me, and only for a little while. If he left from one moment to another, not even my vanity would have suffered.”

“You would have been nothing but a conquest for him,” I stressed, making sure he knew. “He doesn’t know how to love anyone. Self-centred, narcissistic…”

“Merlin, baby…” – another kiss, and a sweet, amused chuckle – “Please, remind me never to make you jealous again. He lost, remember? You won – and he lost. All right?”

“All right… I suppose,” I agreed grudgingly, not because my rage at Lorcan Scamander had in any way subsided, but simply because _my_ Hugo tasted absolutely delicious and a lot like _more_ , and I wasn’t going to let the reminiscence of a certain blond scum stand in the way of claiming my victory prize. I practically attacked my man with my mouth. The taste of him made it real and tangible, and I couldn’t get enough of the wonderful, bone-melting thing that was Hugo Weasley’s tongue slowly sinking into my mouth and finding an eager partner to dance with. When he finally let go of me, I was panting, almost dizzy, and definitely ready to go again.

“I reckon you no longer care about the rest of the story,” he murmured against my skin, and the close proximity of his mouth sent goosebumps of delight bristling down my body.

“No,” I argued more out of the feeling of decency than any actual persuasion. “I do… I just… oh, fuck it, Hugo, I can’t let you do this to me… Go on, then, tell me the rest. How on Merlin’s curious earth did you make James get the blue candy? I practically had it in my hand! A second and I would have eaten it!”

And he laughed that beautiful golden laughter that made my heart leap and he shook his fiery mane.

“He’d never let you. He’d never let anyone have it. Blue is his sacred colour. You see, I know something of James that you don’t – and almost no one else does either. He is colour-blind. All the reds and greens are just shades of grey to him and the one colour he can distinguish properly, is blue. Outside of his Hogwarts robes, with a big, fat crest on it, he owns nothing red or green, it’s all blue, grey or black.”

Merlin… fuck me backwards, but I’d never noticed it until that moment. He was right, though – James’s choice of colours was terribly... well, traditional and boring, almost monochrome, considering the fun, boisterous person he was. Hugo was indeed playing with so much more than magic… But he must have mistaken my shocked face for a disbelieving one, so he grinned, and offered further explanation:

“I found out about his condition by chance when I joined the Quidditch team – he’s always really nervous before the game with the Slytherins, because he can barely tell them apart from our team by their colours when they’re far away. I saw something was amiss and I offered to help if he spilled it. So eventually he did, albeit begrudgingly – and I helped. I made sure he can tell them apart now, though not by colour. The thing is, he never told anyone, poor sod. He grew up listening to our dads’ stories about cool Gryffindors and vicious Slytherins and when he started Hogwarts, he had a childish fear that someone would discover he can’t even tell one lot from the other apart properly. As you can imagine, my task was easy: apart from enough glitter on the blue jelly bean to burn your retinas, there was no magic required to make James do my bidding.”

He smiled at me when I was still gawping, because… I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around that _“no magic was required”_ fact… We just went and did what he intended us to do – magic or not. But there were _mad_ risks involved.

“But what if someone _did_ take the blue one? What if James wasn’t fast enough in stopping them? And how on in the name Merlin’s limping dog did you make me take my candy?! I’m not colour blind. I’m not… blimey, Hugh!”

The questions just poured out of me, and he chuckled and kissed me to shut me up.

“James had his eyes on that jelly bean the second they landed on the cake. I made sure of that. I couldn’t even see it, sitting on the other side of that massive cake, and I’m the tallest of the lot. I knew he was going for it, come hell or high water, it must have felt like it was destined for him when it landed right in front of his nose, glittering in a colour he could distinguish. I was willing to bet my wand arm he wouldn’t let anyone have it, but on my part, I’d sooner topple the damn cake over – lovely little explosions in tow! –  if anyone was to take it. And when you did, I knew he would not pass up on an opportunity like this – James life motto is along the lines of _‘It’s now or never’_. I didn’t even flinch – and neither did he, before he took it from you.”

It was… crazy simple. But that was Hugo for you – he was smart and bold enough to choose the route no one else would dare think of!

“But all our charms had a short-term effect – what if James woke up too soon for you to follow through with your… _mad_ and wonderful plan? What then, Hugh?”

I swear my throat closed at the very thought. But much to my surprise, he smiled darkly.

“Not bloody well likely, considering I put The Draught of Living Death in his pretty, blue candy,” he said matter-of-factly, and this time I _did_ shiver. _JesusMerlin_ , Hugo… A potion that was nearly impossible to make even for the sixth-year students – that was, if one could afford the ingredients, that were exceptionally hard to come by and as such, terribly expensive. Knowing Hugo, James could consider himself lucky if he didn't sleep well into the next week! But I didn't want to lose another moment thinking of James. I still didn't get all of my answers.

“But what about…”

“Yes… I’m coming to that, you impatient little crup pup! As to _your_ candy… that was the only proper bit of magic involved in the choice. You see, no one could see it but you,” he said simply.

Oh…

“Not only it was right in front of you and practically transparent, I gave that one your signature,” he explained seriously. “You see, Make-A-Wish is no ordinary charm. In order for it to work, it has to be highly personalised, completely customised to the person who is supposed to take it. And once it is locked on them, its appeal is so potent it practically calls your name. It took me a while to get that one right.”

He smiled into my gawping, awe-stricken face again, and added softly:

“But it was totally worth it. The long hours in the Potions lab when I was perfecting it, the weekend detentions, the singed eyebrows, exploded cauldrons and acid-burned fingers. It was everything I hoped it was going to be when I saw myself sitting next to you, holding you close.”

And for some reason this simple statement brought tears into my eyes. 

“Hugh… you idiot,” I choked out, and when I kissed him next, I had no intention of letting up. “You could have just…”

But I stopped, before I completed that thought. _Of course_ he couldn’t just ask me. Every word I had said to him in private I neglected in the next moment with my erratic, treacherous behaviour. He couldn’t simply ask me, because I gave him no reason to trust me – so he got his proof the only way he knew how. And I, for my part, was determined to prove to him that I could – that I _would_ – change. As soon as I was done tasting the sweetest, most tempting mouth in the universe.

“Make love to me,” I kissed him sensually, pouring all of my withheld feelings into that heavenly touch of our lips. Without hesitating a second I rolled on top of him to make my point. I’d had it with confessions, and guilt and past sins. I wanted to belong to him, no one but him, and I wanted to prove it so badly that it made my heart ache. I hoped to once be worthy of him, of his amazing, magnificent love I had shoved away so many times, and I didn’t much care how I got there. Shameless begging, with words and body alike; indecent proposals whispered anytime, anywhere, at moments like these or those inappropriate ones that make a boy blush and think all the wrong thoughts… even opening my heart – this time for all the world to see… I was willing to do anything it took to demonstrate to Hugo Weasley how very important he had become to me, how much I came to love him.

“Please make love to me…” I whispered as I snuggled into his neck and refused to leave until I was heard. “I’ll be everything you want me to be, Hugh. I longed for you so, my blue-eyed prince… I longed for you night after night, and I couldn’t give you up no matter how hard I tried. So now I’m done trying. Somehow you sneaked into my heart, my fiery one, and now I no longer want you to leave. I want you to stay… in my heart and in my arms for as long as I can have you. I can’t bloody stay away from you, I’m not myself when I miss you too much… and I don’t want to miss you at all. I want to love you. Now. Here. With everything I got. Because you’re my wonderful saviour, my brave prince, my very own priceless gem, made of warmth and light, shining brightly. You’re _mine_ , Hugo, and I want to show you what it means to belong to a Malfoy.”

I squeezed as many kisses as I could muster between those words, and by the way his fingers sank into my hair to hold me still and kiss me stupid, I reckoned I got my point across.

“Baby…” he shut all the supply of any kind of sense to my head with his ungodly mouth that should definitely come with some kind of licence. “Show me what you've got, my angel.”

And then we made love… _boy, did we make_ _love!_ Again. And again, and again. Let me just say that all those rumours about the legendary Weasley sexual prowess – ohhhh, Merlin, yes… so _true_. Every last one of them. At least when this slightly insane, insatiable Weasley sex-god with _very_ vivid imagination and bottomless reserves of energy and love was concerned. He was an animal. Oh, god, totally. When he was done with me, there were the first purple fingers of dawn painting the edges of our little bubble of joy, and I swear I was wrecked. Lying in his arms, feeling completely safe and spectacularly loved, I was unable to lift a finger and if a fire broke out, I’m afraid I would have been charred to the bone, before I could take any action. There was an absolutely ridiculous expression of pure bliss imprinted on my face, and it was the type they’d have to chisel off my face. I’d never felt so perfectly happy in my life.

Blame it on this, if you like – he did absolutely fuck the brains out of my skull – but when he whispered a soft _“What happens now?”,_ the nearly sleeping, empty-headed sex-zombie I’d become offered him the simplest, most disastrous answer one could come up with:

“Now comes morning. And that’s it.”

And I, the brainless fuck, fell asleep before I could elaborate, explain, and let the love of my life know what I had meant: that this is it. We’d sealed our faith, we’d done what we’d done and that was it. We would move on from here. _Together_.

Only, I never really got to say any of those things, did I? So, can you blame that anxious, self-conscious soul I never gave any reason to trust me, if that’s not what he had heard?

_"That’s it.”_

That was what he had heard. That’s it – _and no more._ It ends here.

I should have known. I should have projected, I should have guessed, I should have been much less vague and much more direct. _I should have said the fucking words._

_“I love you madly and I want to go on with you, if you’d have me.”_

I should have said that! Only, I didn’t. Instead, I slept in his arms like a new-born, silly kneazle without a care in the world – only to wake up to an empty bed and someone banging rabidly on the door.

_Godfuck_ – I barely managed to move. I was so disoriented and wrecked I didn’t even pay attention to the fact that I was by myself. In my mind, Hugo was around, and never leaving. He would be somewhere. Around. Near, even. Perhaps in the bathroom? But not gone. Never. After the night we had spent together, that fact that he might be gone was so… _alien_ , so far removed from my brain, that it had never even crossed my mind. It’s was not why I got up. I only wanted to shut down the godless, merciless pounding that seemed to be growing louder and louder.

“I’m coming, I’m coming… _Jesusfuck_ , what’s the bloody rush?! Hang on, nearly there… Rose?! What the fuck…?!”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Scorpius!” my redhaired best friend barked at me, her face turning almost as red as her hair at the sight of my disarray and lack of decency. “Get dressed, you horny idiot! James is on his way here, and believe me… you don’t want to meet him looking freshly shagged like this!”

Oh, fuck… Bloody hell and fuck. How could I forget?! James. My – still official – boyfriend.  Bloody hell. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, it's all the way too long and terribly pornish - sorry about that - but it was coming together bit by bit and I swear it didn't seem like that much! :P Anyway - it's not quite the end of the drama yet. Because, no. That would so not be me. ;) I suppose if you don't wish to read 16K of porn, you're fine to skip that one - it's not like it adds to the development of the story. I'm afraid to ask "Who's sorry already to have started reading this story, raise your hands!" - because I'm afraid there would be a sea of hands up in the air all of the sudden, LOL! :) *runs away before people start throwing rotten tomatoes at her*  
> P.S. The title is from a R.E.M. song - who'd say? I was never a fan, but this one stuck with me.


	7. A clean cut at long last

I needed Hugo. I desperately needed Hugo! Where was he? Finally fully awake, I felt a sickness stirring inside of me like a coiling snake, as if having no sight of Hugo was making me ill.

“Where is he?” I tried to ask Rose, but my throat was suddenly dry and nothing but a feeble, shaky whisper came out. “Where is Hugo?”

Because this was Rose, I half expected a snarky remark, something along the lines of _“Well, how should I know; it’s not like he spent a night with me?!”_ – but I guess there must have been something on my face that stopped her in-built sarcasm from bursting out.

“Never mind that now,” she murmured softly, and the undertone of something alike pity in her voice made my stomach churn harder. “Get yourself in order. Get dressed. James…”

“ _Where.Is.Hugo?_ Rose?! Please…” I squeezed through my teeth, not caring about James, not caring about any damn thing other than there was _no Hugo_ , and that was _wrong_. That was all the way wrong. I wanted him… I needed him by my side. How was I supposed to do this without him? I was such a fucking coward… and so bloody weak. How was I supposed to even start a day without him?

The dire need in my voice prompted Rose to turn away hastily and walk a few steps across the room, throwing the window open with magic, as she got there.

“Merlin, the air in here…” she mumbled, sounding half disgusted, yet strangely wistful.

“Rose…” I said once more pleadingly, and finally she turned towards me, and this time, the pity on her face was unmistakable.

“Come here,” she said softly. “Come and see.”

As sore as I was all over, I practically flew across the room. At first I could spot nothing but a flawless summer morning sky, not a cloud in place, and… nothing. Seriously, nothing… but a large bird… no… thestral? creature?... roaming the sky. And then I saw what it was, and my knees bucked. _A dragon._ A splendid green dragon was flying across the skies over the sleepy village of Hogsmeade, gaining speed and distance with every sweep of its majestic wings. Only it wasn’t just a dragon, was it? It had… passengers.

“Uncle Charlie came to pick him up today,” Rose said quietly. “It was supposed to be a second part of his present. Mum finally budged. Hugo came to the castle in the morning, looking as if he was running and crying all the way. Though… you know Hugo, he knows how to trample upon a weakness, more so, when it’s his own. His cheeks were already dry when he came to the common room, but he… he was not himself. I _do_ have, uhm, you know… an idea of what you did last night after you’d disappeared,” she looked around the room pointedly, and blushed even more deeply at the sight of a warzone our love-making left behind. “But whatever it was, Scorpius Malfoy,” she continued quietly, adamantly, “it left my brother heartbroken.”

And so was I. God, so was I.

“I saw how… _off_ he was, so I told him. I told him about the visit to cheer him up, but he only nodded, barely able to speak. _‘Splendid, Rosie, dearest,’_ he said, and Merlin, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone sound so lifeless. _‘I suppose I better get ready then,’_ he said, but he didn’t even move, he just sat there.

So, I told him it’s perhaps for the best and he only nodded numbly. _‘Yes, I suppose it is. Such a wonderful opportunity. Perhaps it’s best to leave all this behind for a while, leave…’_ He couldn’t even say it, Scorp. He looked crushed. Why, if you please, did you think it was a good idea to go and break my brother’s heart, you terrible spoilt brat?!” she erupted so suddenly, I actually took a step backwards.

“I didn’t break anything!” I hurried to explain, and in my current, broken state, it came out as a rude bark. “At least I never meant to! He should have given me a chance to wake up next to him. He should have had some trust in me – was that too much to ask?!”

“You tell me, Scorpius Malfoy!” Rose hissed, and looked at me with a fuming expression that made me wish there was a table near I could duck under. “Hugo seems to feel so!”

“But I don’t know what I’ve done _wrong_ , all right?!” I finally howled at her in my frustration. “One moment I was lying there in his arms, over-the-moon happy if a bit wrecked – because your brother is a… oh, never mind – but I _swear_ I was ready to give everything up for him in the morning – I _swear_ it, Rose! And in the next moment I woke up all alone, with you causing a bloody trauma to my head with that banging, and he’s gone, and I’m so fucking… _wrecked_ without him!” I shouted out loudly, and from the softened expression on her face I saw that my words finally hit home.

“Anyway… he left you a note,” she said quietly, and produced a tiny, crumbled scroll addressed to me from her pocket, and I immediately recognised Hugo’s erratic hand-writing. I could barely open it with my fingers trembling so badly.

_Scorpius, ~~my love,~~_

_I didn’t want to wake you up, not to make it awkward for you. Thank you for the most wonderful night in my life. I know you never meant it to be more than this, so I thought it was best to leave before you had to spell it out to me._

_~~This hurt so bloody much now…~~ _

_~~I can’t…~~ _

_~~I love you too much for words…~~ _

_I wish you and James all the very best… I just can’t be around right now to wish you that in person.”_

There was a suspicious blotch on the parchment right there that looked like something wet had smeared the ink, and I bit my lip bloody not to scream. The scratched-through bits were nearly impossible to read, but I desperately wanted to know what was on his mind, so I tried my hardest an somehow I managed anyway. I almost wished I didn't. There was just a little bit more in the note.

_But hey, I get to see dragons, imagine that! I reckon I will be perfectly all right around you and James by the end of summer, no need to worry about that. I’m just being silly right now ~~because I’m so bloody wrecked~~. ~~I’m so sorry.~~ but I’ll be fine, I promise. I won’t give up what happened last night to James or anything, in case you were worried about that. I realise it’s all water the bridge for you ~~though I can’t let it go~~._

_Have a lovely summer yourself and all ~~my love~~ the best,_

_Your friend Hugh_

There were more blotches at the end of the page, nearly smearing his signature into being unrecognisable… and I couldn’t do anything. I just stared, and stared, completely numb inside. He was gone. He was clearly crying when he wrote this, but he gave me up, and he was gone. But why? I couldn’t fathom.

“He’s gone,” I whispered. “Why?”

“Hugo is no fool,” Rose said gently, and when I looked at her, I could almost see her magnificent mind working a hundred miles a minute. “He would not give you up unless he was certain this was it. How, exactly, did you let him know that you wanted to give everything up for him in the morning, hm?”

“Well, he asked me – just before I drifted away, yeah? He said _‘What happens now?’_ – with these words, _exactly_ – and I said…” I closed my eyes to try and recall what the hell I had said… not like it was easy... “I said: _‘Now comes morning. And that’s it.’_ That’s what I said. As in, you know, we’ve done it now, and we go from here. Together. You don’t think –”

“You bloody fool,” Rose uttered quietly, and from this point on, even the misery on my face wasn’t enough to stop a flood of her seething anger from crushing into me. _Not so quietly_ this time. “Of course you never told him that _other_ bit, and he was just supposed to guess it, or what!? He didn’t _hear_ what you were thinking, did he?! He heard _‘That’s it.’_ And for him, that spells as good as: _And that’s where it ends_. You’ve been putting Hugo down from the moment you met him, and he bloody _adored_ you, for ages! And now, when he finally got to you – god knows how! – he’s just supposed to guess that you’re finally ready to put him first? _How_ , on Merlin’s shiny new earth?! Oh, you… _supreme_ idiot, you!”

And I truly, honestly felt like one. I just stood there, as if someone had pulled the earth from under my feet, feeling utterly dim and lost. Only now, when I’d said my own words out loud, it hit me, how _wrongly_ they could be interpreted. Rose was right. I could put any troll to shame.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I whispered miserably, all of my feistiness gone. She could call me any derogative name on the planet if she liked, as long as she was willing to help me. I _so_ didn’t want to screw this up it was ridiculous. I needed Hugo and I to be all right, needed him to know how bonkers I was about him, and I needed us to be a couple. I needed to be with him. And he wasn’t here… and wouldn’t be, not for a very long time. I needed him back. Urgently. I felt like stomping my foot to make it happen.

“You… _we_ can’t do anything _now_ ,” Rose sighed, her anger having dissipated and having been replaced by bossy annoyance. “I need some time; I need to think. In the meantime, get your miserable arse sorted out, while I spell some of this mess tidy and clean, or James will kill you with his first hex. Merlin on a pink motorbike, what were you up to in here?! Oh, never mind, I _truly, honestly,_ don’t want to know… Oh, but this place looks and smells like a brothel, I’ll have you know! Bloody boys!”

James… shit! For a moment there, I had completely forgotten about him! I dashed towards the small compartment one could have easily mistaken for a built-in closet, while it was, in fact, the smallest bathroom I had ever been in. It offered no luxury, save for hot water, a rough-looking towel and a set of toiletries made up of a lavender soap bar, same scent of shampoo and the ugliest toothbrush I had ever set eyes on. I did my business quickly, not only because I knew James could start banging on the door anytime, but also, uhm… oh, I was pretty sore all over, all right? And I think I wouldn’t have cared – I might have even cherished it – if Hugo was around, but this way… this way every bruise, every love bite was just a sorry reminder of everything I managed to waste away. Merlin, I had to get him back! I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror and see what a lost crup pup, covered in hickeys, I’d become.

When I walked out of the shower, still only wrapped in a towel after having realised I literally had nothing undamaged to wear, I stopped flat in my track. Rose’s work had been… wow, just wow. Exceptional. One could barely recognise the room for the same one she had stepped in. The bed had been restored to its unblemished state, the cracks in the plaster fixed and even the broken link of the curtain, that came with the room, had been mended. And my clothes, laid across the bed for me neatly, looked pristine, with barely a wrinkle on in the fabric to testify of the hard night behind them.

“Rose, that’s super impressive!” I told her honestly, and I could see by the small, smug smirk in her face that she knew it was, but she appreciated the compliment anyway. Oh, but she was such a darling! In spite of the frown on her face, testifying of her less than sunny disposition, I walked straight up to her, sitting on the window-sill, and kissed her cheek:

“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it. “Thank you for still being my friend, even though I’m the biggest fuck up on this planet who’s been hurting people left and right. Thank you for always being there for me, Rosie! I love you, darling, and I think the world of you. I do hope you know.”

She flushed deep crimson – and looking at those bright cheeks and sky-blue eyes, similar enough to that other, even more heavenly set of orbs, it suddenly hit me. Oh, blimey… I never meant to… I never noticed… I had carefully backtracked a few steps just to put some distance between us, and I quickly started putting my clothes on, to at least be halfway decent. At the sight of what must have been my panicked face, she genuinely started to giggle, albeit a bit hysterically.

“Rose… I didn’t mean it… in any way… romantically,” I clumsily tried to salvage what could still be restored of our friendship from the sea of awkwardness, but she laughed even harder, and she barely managed to hiccup out the words:

“It’s so typical of you… Scorpius Malfoy… to notice my crush on you _after_ I no longer have one!”

Oh, that was a relief… That was such a bloody relief I nearly put my trousers on the wrong way. Don’t get me wrong: normally I would have been flattered to have such an effect on all the Potter-Weasley kids – save for Al who seemed immune to my charms – but in these circumstances, it was beginning to resemble a zombie nightmare where everyone wanted a piece of me.

“I never knew, I swear,” I murmured awkwardly, and finally she stopped giggling, even though her shoulders were still occasionally shaking with held-back fits of laughter.

“I know,” she said simply, sighed, shook her head, as if she still couldn’t believe it, and looked straight at me with a smile on her face: “I know you never noticed me romantically, Scorp – _Merlin, do I know!_ – but that didn’t stop me from dreaming about it, did it? You were my best friend and I knew you were interested in boys exclusively before you did! One can only glance at a well-trained Quidditch arse so many times without someone noticing, you know! But still, I couldn’t help myself. You only had to bat those ridiculously long eyelashes of yours at me, and I’d turn all… girly and excited. So, I shouted at you some more to cover up my feelings, but it wasn’t until I saw you falling for Hugo that I realised it would never, ever be my turn, would it? I mean, given your past attitude towards him, Hugo was as unlikely choice for you as they came – and yet you took it and… it would never be me, would it?”

The sad smile she gave me, absolutely broke my heart. If only it could have been her… I’d never look at another!

“Rose,” I approached her boldly, and took her hand. “You know that if there would ever be a girl, it would be you,” I told her honestly, and she gave me another one of those radiant, sincere Weasley smiles that made the awkwardness between us go away.

“Don’t be silly, you can’t help who you are… but it’s still good to hear!” she smiled bravely again through the diamonds of tears shining in her eyes and – goddammit, what was wrong with me that I was making them all so miserable?! Was I cursed?! Were they?!

“Anyway, when Lys asked me out, I said yes, just to… well, to cut through this silly reverie, and give myself a chance to be happy. I could tell it meant the world to him and for that moment, it was enough. Best decisions I ever made!” she smiled again, but this time it was enthusiastic and blissful and even my heart leaped a little in the joy she radiated. “He is absolutely beautiful, inside and out, and I can’t understand how anyone can mistake him for his brother, not even for a moment. He’s so gentle and _smart_ , and cuddly – Merlin, I never knew I’d love a boy who’s cuddly, but there you go! And, he’s such a gentleman! And the way he kisses…”

“Rose, enough, for bold Merlin’s dragon’s sake, enough!” I laughed trying to stop a flood of her enthusiasm. Bloody hell, those Weasleys… I bet they could make one laugh on their deathbed! But she was absolutely adorable, and I couldn’t be happier for her.

“You can’t drool over the qualities of your boyfriend in front of a gay bloke! I might be tempted…” I teased, but when I saw a flash of temper in those blue eyes, I remembered the legendary Weasley jealousy… too late, it seemed.

“You wouldn’t!” she pointed her finger at me, and the way I gulped, one would think it was her wand. “I mean, it’s not like you could… but you wouldn’t!”

“You know I wouldn’t,” I agreed readily. If anything, those fierce blue eyes reminded me of my own predicament. “You know… you saw that I only have one person on my mind,” I sighed, a fresh wave of morose feeling washing over me. “And as much as I regret it, it isn’t you.”

“Well, I sure as hell hope not,” a cold voice came from the direction of the door, and James Sirius Potter, my official boyfriend, stood there, looking as if he had just swallowed a thunder cloud.

“Will someone _please_ explain me what the hell is going on?!”

Oh, bloody hell, here we go…

~

“I better leave,” Rose got up and headed for the door.

“No!” James and I both shouted unanimously and then glanced at one another with nervous surprise. I imagine our motivations were somewhat different. I wanted someone to know where my charred remains resided once I had said to James what I needed to say. James however…

“I just… In front of you… Well, the thing is, I suspect Scorpius has been… adjusting the truth somewhat, for a while now, and I imagine he will be reluctant to do so in front of you,” James said nervously, looking at no one but Rose, and for an impulsive bloke he was, he was working uncommonly hard on his wording. As if he didn’t want to accuse me straight out of lying… you know, in case there was still a chance he was wrong, and this was all a big misunderstanding. In case there was still a slim chance for us. More than anything, that got to me. That really got to me. I never deserved him, the bastard that I was.

“All right,” Rose agreed reluctantly and let go of the doorknob, still looking nervous. “But if this gets in any way too personal, I’m leaving. I’m just here to make sure you say whatever you’ve got to say – _truthfully_ this time – and possibly not kill each other in the process, is that clear?”

I nodded, but while James also grunted his agreement, he was quick to add pointedly:

“But I want every detail. This whole thing has been… odd for some time now, and there were too many loose ends and unexpected turns in my life lately not to suspect… anyway, every detail, is that clear?”

He was looking straight at me, so I nodded again, this time with a knot in my throat. Without another word to lose, my practical Rose niftily transformed the bed into a set of three comfy armchairs, and motioned towards them.

“There,” she said somewhat appeased, when we all took the respective seat closest to us. “You first, Jamie. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I remember looking like Hugo, that’s what I remember!” he said wildly, as if the very memory had the power to upset him. “And then nothing after that. Only, it never felt the way Dad described it would feel, did it? The Polyjuice, I mean… It didn’t taste evil – it tasted rather brilliant, actually – it didn’t hurt and I didn’t really _feel_ it happen. It’s just… from one moment to the other, it was there. It still felt like me, underneath, only I couldn’t see it! It was like being trapped inside… something… a vision, and illusion, perhaps… and I couldn’t make it go away. Fucking scary, I’m telling you!”

“James Sirius Potter, let no one ever tell you you’re anything less than brilliant,” Rose said calmly. “I’m afraid it was me, confusing everyone with my remark about the Polyjuice potion. That, sadly, wasn’t the case. Your appearance was a result of a super-powerful illusion charm, just like you guessed. Now, can you guess what magic could cause such a remarkable transformation?”

“Merlin…” James said after a few long moments of silence, his voice shaky and dazed. “Make-A-Wish? But I thought you got that one! Was there more than one, then? Bloody hell! Are you sure?! But how? I _swear_ I never had any deep, lingering desire to become Hugo!”

“Oh, it was not you who got the Make-A-Wish,” Rose said softly, and this time there were traces of pity in her voice. “It wasn’t me either, but that’s beside the point. Scorpius here, however… that’s a different story. I suppose if you ended up as Hugo… you should talk to him about it. Oh, by the way – yours was a sleeping potion, though I’m not entirely sure how common one…”

“Scorpius?” James whispered as if he never heard her last sentence. He looked positively faint, upset, disappointed, and heartbroken all in one. “But how… why, babe…?”

Oh, sweet Merlin in pink socks, these could be my final moments on earth. Here goes nothing…

“Yes… well…” I cleared my throat, and started with the easy bit. “Your jelly bean contained the Draught of the Living Death – ” I tried to unsuccessfully ignore Rose’s gasp and James’s greenish pallor, so I hurried up, “ – but it was minuscule, just a drop, or you would have slept well into the next week, as you probably know.”

“Scorpius…” Rose said with a warning in her voice, and I knew I was out of chances to delay. I took a deep breath, and I surprised myself with the calm, composed voice that came out of my mouth.

“Yes, I know, Rose… thank you, I was getting there. As you might have guessed it, James: Hugo was behind this – behind all of it. He made sure I got the Make-A-Wish and you got the sleeping potion – but before you fly through the roof in that explosive temper of yours, you need to know why he had done it. He had done it… because _I_ asked something of him that I had no courage to do myself,” I finally blurted out. James just sat there, still and quiet as if petrified, but Rose had such an impatient look on her face that I felt compelled to raise my hand to stop her from any rash interference.

“No worries, I will explain in a minute, but I want to do this my way, properly, to make sure you understand. You see, you need to know something that you are probably not aware of. Hugo and I… we had… _a thing_ before you and I, James… were _a thing_ …”

Oh, merciful God, but my eloquence was a thing of beauty… NOT. Luckily the impact of my words stunned them both into glass-eyed open-mouthed staring, so I reckoned they hadn’t bothered to focus on my exquisite choice of words. I had gotten my point across.

“You and Hugo…” James seemed to have choked before he could say the words, and I only nodded to give myself some time to arrange my thoughts. Rose, in the meantime, was still busy staring.

“You see, I had this… crazy crush on… another person – never mind who, it’s no longer important – and acting upon my obsession had gotten me into quite a predicament. At the time, I wasn’t aware that it was Hugo who had facilitated my… engagement with that person, and when things went awry… it was Hugo who pulled me out of a sticky situation.”

“Louis… you were the other guy,” Rose blurted out in a voice that sounded dazed, and… damn that brilliant brain of hers! If James was going to hurt me – and I was fairly certain that after I had fully confessed, he was going to want to hurt me – I didn’t want to implicate anyone else. But what was done, was done. Rose was far too smart for her own good. Still, I promised to myself that I was so over with the lying, so I merely paid her a reproachful look, and I confirmed:

“Yes. Louis. That was me. And what happened was Hugo. He got me out of that one, ask not how, and I should have been grateful, really… I should have kissed his cheek, I should have said ‘thank you’ and ‘I owe you’, and I should have gone to bed… But I was angry, and frustrated, and… goddammit, I had been in the middle of getting some when McGonagall stumbled upon us, and I was pissed off at the whole world and still… _ready_ … for action,” I tried to hint suggestively at the state of the affairs in the presence of a lady, but Rose merely rolled her eyes up, so I gave it up for a bad job and I just blurted out the rest.

“Anyway, we got into an argument, when we got to our common room, and – oh, he always did know how to get under my skin… So, at one point I just jumped him, and if you had asked me at that point what I had meant with it, with knocking him backwards onto that sofa, I would have told you I merely wanted to break every bone he had… Only, it was not what I’d done, was it? Because before you know it, we were at it… at each other like we were starved for it and he was everything… he was everything Louis wasn’t and no other boy would ever be for me. Not even you, James. I’m sorry.”

I looked him straight in the eye at those words, not because I was cruel, but because I deserved to see how miserable I’d made him. I cared for him, yet I used him, and manipulated him, and cheated on him in the end. I deserved whatever he had in store for me. But at that point there was no mindless rage, no wounded pride in those pretty honey-coloured eyes. Just plenty of hurt and confusion, and somehow, that was even worse.

“But why then…” he wanted to know in a dull, strained voice. “When I asked you… why did you say yes?”

I took another big breath. Here came the hard part. What I had told James and Rose about Hugo and I could be dismissed as a fling, something that happened before James and I got together. No one could blame me for that. But that was only the beginning of it, wasn’t it?

“Because I didn’t want him. Or, to be more precise _: I didn’t want to want him_ ,” I finally spit out, and I was afraid to look at Rose, at what would surely be a hurt face. Instead, I ploughed on, until I still had any courage left. “I didn’t want to be with him. Period. He was too young, I told myself. He was seven kinds of crazy and not as knock-out gorgeous as you, and I’m a proud, ambitious, absolute bastard, who thought that could get away with ignoring his heart to get something, someone, that fit better. Only, you didn’t fit better, did you? No one fit better than him, and he had taught me that lesson time and time again, by just being there and being his wonderful, faithful, unique self. I hung around your neck and I made out with you because it felt nice and because I saw you were genuinely smitten with me – but my heart only gave a flip when he was on horizon. And the bastard wouldn’t be persuaded to change a preference, no matter how hard I tried. I honestly tried to love you, James Potter,” I looked him in the eye, because at least I could say that honestly, but it seemed it was no comfort, he looked just as miserable as before.

“I swear I did – it just didn’t come. I suppose… I had nothing left to love you with because… god, this is awkward… because my heart had been stolen from me, even when I really didn’t want to give it. And it took me forever to acknowledge it. It was so damn _inconvenient_! You can’t imagine how many times I wished I could take back what happened that evening with Hugo– just forget about it and pretend it didn’t happen, yeah? – but I couldn’t. Here I was, holding the hand of the most gorgeous, most desirable boy who could have had anyone but picked me – and yet my head was all over the place, thinking of nothing and no one else but _him_ , Hugo, my secret, inappropriate, madder than mad crush, of what he was doing, if I was going to see him that evening, fearing and feverishly anticipating that bittersweet pang of excitement and yearning that flooded me every time I spotted him on horizon. Even when you and I kissed, I kept thinking of how it would be if it was him, instead of you… yeah, that bad,” I said miserably, when I saw James’s pretty face contort in bitterness.

“I should have been honest, I know… _I know that now_. Not only with you, but with myself as well. I should have acknowledged that by that simple, mindless act of finding release I had stupidly crossed a boundary into the domain feelings that I had every intention of staying away from. In my defence: it was never meant to happen, so I didn’t expect it… at least not with him – not with someone so young, so unorthodox, so… _different_ from my expectation – but it did and I should have never lied to myself about the mark it left on me. But I wasn’t ready. I thought I could handle it. I thought it didn’t really matter who I was thinking about, privately, as long as I got to have an actual boyfriend who was cool and who seemed to genuinely care for me. And in the end, that, exactly, turned out to be the problem. You see, you, as any teenage boy dating a person he was crushing on, you wanted more. But I… didn’t. Not with you.”

“Merlin, Scorpius…” James blurted out in a shaky voice, looking positively green – and god, did he suddenly sound _angry_! “I never would have forced you! I didn’t know… How _could_ I know? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because it would have ruined everything, why else?” I shrugged tiredly. “I couldn’t tell you, or my precious game would have been over and one could only delay for so long with… more. As my boyfriend, eventually you would have been entitled to more than a few sloppy kisses and… _I know, Rose,_ I wasn’t about to go into detail! But you were getting impatient and the very thought petrified me. I was getting desperate, so in the end I did the only thing I could think of doing: I confessed. Only, I didn’t do it to you. I told the only person I could be completely sincere, and myself with. I told Hugo.”

“Oh, Scorp… you bloody idiot,” Rose gasped with the fingers pressed to her mouth, sounding shocked.

“Yeah… I know,” I said weakly, and I mustered enough courage for a glance at James’s pale, tightly-drawn face. “I told him when you came up with that plan of yours that was about to take place in the Room of the Requirement. That really pushed me into a corner. I couldn’t… I just _couldn’t_ make myself go through with it, all right?! But I had already said yes, because you expected me to and because I’m such a bloody coward… I confessed to Hugo after I had agreed, and that was the first thing he had said: why don’t I simply tell you, and ask for more time? But I couldn’t… tell him why. If I told him, I would have to say out the words, I wasn’t ready to say: that it didn’t matter how much time you gave me, you would never be him, Hugo. And I only wanted him, even if I hated myself for it. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to say any of that, it would be too much of a defeat to confess that I needed him so bloody much, in spite of all my conscious efforts to be a good boyfriend to you. So, in the end I was so bloody frustrated and frightened that I started to cry… And Hugo was never any good with my tears.”

“So, it was Hugo behind that disastrous evening after all…” James murmured, and in spite of the thunder and lightning in his eyes, he looked halfway impressed. I nodded.

“I didn’t know that he was going to do that, though,” I added quickly. He made me no promises other than _‘we’ll fix it’_ and I honestly thought I was going to the Room of the requirement with you to seal the deal and… _be_ with you. But I knew it was him as soon as I saw you couldn’t get the room to open. It was honestly the most horrible few moments of my life, knowing that he was probably in there, listening to you say all those mean things about him and I did nothing to stand up for him. I might have betrayed you a hundred times, Jamie, but there’s no words to describe how deplorably I treated him. And still he stood by me every time I asked it of him.”

“But I don’t understand,” Rose said frowning. “Hugo is no idiot. He might not have the obvious Weasley temper ready to burst like the rest of us, but he wouldn’t let you take him for a fool without some kind of… encouragement.”

I blushed as much as a Malfoy can, and I glanced towards James, more than a little intimidated.

“The whole truth, I said,” was the only thing he hissed, so I gulped silently, and then just blurted out to have it over with:

“I kissed him every chance I got. I love kissing him. What I said about not wanting more… it couldn’t be less true when it comes to Hugo. I always wanted more, more than he was willing to give to a coward that I was. He literally had to throw me off at some point and tell me I was using him to make me let go off him. But I couldn’t bloody stop wanting him! What happened tonight… I mean, it was him, his crazy plan and even crazier execution, but he only did it because I told him that I didn’t want… oh, bloody hell… that I didn’t want my first time to be with you… but that I’d take him anywhere, anytime. And last night… I did.”

By the end my words have faded to a mere whisper and in the near absolute silence of deathly-pale faces that reigned, I was strangely hollow from finally purging myself of the horrible truth.

“So, you actually cheated on me… you went through with it,” James said in a shaky voice, but then he roared so unexpectedly, I nearly jumped to the ceiling. “But if you’re so bloody crazy about him, why didn’t you simply go for him, you evil bastard?! What does it matter if he’s younger and mad as a hatter – you’re clearly head over heels about him, aren’t you?! Why didn’t you tell me we were no good together?! I would have been hurt, mortified even, but it would have been fair and I would have eventually recovered! Now it’s all fucked up beyond belief! Not only I can’t trust you, not ever again, but clearly I can’t even trust myself to tell if the guy really likes me or not! How can I trust anyone?! And I used to like Hugo, lots and lots, and then you came with your lies and your back-stabbing treachery and your fake affection, and set us against each other! Merlin… Dad was right about the bloody Malfoys, you lot ruin _everything_!”

“I thought of Hugo as _less than you_ , can’t you see?!” I heard myself shout so suddenly, I even startled myself. “Anyone would have been _less than you_ and Hugo… so young, so eccentric, not half as glamorous as the rest of your family… Hugo seemed all the way wrong… yet felt so incredibly right and perfect and… oh, _I don’t fucking know_ , do I?!” I barely now noticed that I was crying, but I fucking didn’t want to, so I wiped my face in my sleeve angrily, and went on to shout some more.

“I certainly didn’t start this to hurt anyone, did I? I just wanted to be accepted, to be _somebody_ by being with somebody that so clearly mattered because _that was the only way for me_! You want to make this about my family?! Of course it’s about my bloody family! You try being born a bloody Malfoy when people spit at you on the street just because you resemble your father, everyone you have known and loved as a child had hurt and killed people, and it doesn’t fucking matter one little bit who you are as a person behind your bloody name!”

At this point they were both staring at me with their mouths open, Rose looking downright hurt, but I was in a full swing and I didn’t know how to stop.

“I haven’t slept a second before boarding the Hogwarts express the first time, dead certain that I’d be shunned and ostracised at Hogwarts, only to discover that Rose and Al were too bloody brilliant to judge me on my name. Plenty of others weren’t so graceful – but can you imagine my relief? Can you imagine your entire status, even well-being depending on someone else’s good grace?! Of course you can’t – you’re James bloody Potter, you were born to be a winner! And I _so_ wanted to be one too – or at least the winner’s significant other – I so wanted to be important and admired! And then I went and fell for Hugo, the only Weasley who wasn’t glamorous and beautiful as you lot all are, but an oddball, strange, scary, and whatnot. None of the good things, or so I thought. Yet my stupid, stupid heart found him so fucking wonderful and adorable I fell straight into him; my calculating brain never stood a bloody chance. I clung onto him stubbornly, and I had no idea what to do! I wanted to love you, James… but I just didn’t, not enough, not the way you deserved anyway – and I had no courage to pick a younger boy, a weirdo, someone that would bring me no admiration and envy for holding his hand in public. But I desperately wanted to.”

“Now, you listen to me, you blond snot!” Rose seethed angrily. “If you think that my brother is worth anything less…”

“Don’t, Rose!” I barked, because for once I was ready to put myself in front of the freight-train that was Rose Weasley. “You really don’t have to. I know _exactly_ what Hugo is and how much he’s worth. I _fucked_ him, for Heaven’s sake, didn’t I?! Do you think I would have cheated on James with just anyone?! I bloody well wouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself. I love him. I love him in spite of my own fucking self and everything I was brought up to be, I love him enough to confess to Jamie here what an impossible, ugly bastard I’d been, and I love him enough to change. For him, to be worthy of him. To show the whole world and then some what a star he is. Because no one shines brighter than he does. Not for me. And I’m finally over that _“I need to be important”_ thing and _“I need everyone to like me because if I put one toe out of line everyone is going to remember my Malfoyian heritage”_. Look, how long it took James here to do so. My father or my family, have never hurt him in his life, yet when I screw up, because I’m a rotten person, I don’t even get to claim that – my family name gets all the blame. But I no longer care.”

And for a moment there, James looked properly ashamed. Then he shrugged, coughed, and said in a rough, strangely sad voice:

“You wronged me, Scorp. You, as a person. And I wish I could hate you for it, but having heard what I did, I just feel sorry for you. I had no idea you had such a chip on your shoulder for being a Malfoy, and I certainly never treated you as _‘just one of them’_. Hugo… Hugo deserves better, and I’m going to tell that to the little bastard after I break every bone on him. As I see he’s not here, I reckon you managed to fuck this up as well.”

“James!” Rose hissed angrily. “You were on a good track. Don’t slide. You’re better than that. Scorpius behaved god-awful, but I’m not going to sit here and watch you kick him when he’s already down. And I’d forget about your plans about bone-breaking and such. You treated Hugo like shit as well, and you know my brother never leaves a score unsettled. You’re just going to have to stomach it, especially if we can persuade my brother that Scorpius’s intentions are honest this time. He’s going to be a part of the family, so suck it up.”

“Well, don’t count on me to help you with that,” James got up and looked at me in cold anger. “If I never see this treacherous arse again in my life it’ll be too soon.”

He made it to the door, and turned around when he was already holding the doorknob, as if he had a last minute thought. The fury in his eyes was gone and he just looked strangely lost and older.

“I really cared for you, you know,” he said quietly, and my throat closed up at the sight of the tears James Sirius Potter would never spill in front of me. “I had a crush on you forever and I thought we could be really good together. I was over the moon when you said yes to me, and held my hand, and… all that other stuff. But I would never, _ever_ want it if I knew it was all fake. You did a lot of damage, so much damage, Scorpius. You broke my heart, my trust, and my dreams and you made me grow up in a most god-awful way. I should really hex you to your bones and then some, but I can’t bring myself to hurt you because… because I still care. You’re dreadfully damaged on the inside and if I was you, I’d pray to every god I could think of that Hugo will be willing to take you as you are and love you. If anyone can fix you, he can. The impossible is what he’s best at, after all. Right now, I’m too hurt, way too hurt to be noble enough to wish you both luck. But with time, perhaps... I will.”

Not caring about my every instinct that screamed at me to stay away from him, I ran across the room and hugged him tight.

“Please forgive me, Jamie. Please,” I begged and said to hell with my pride. This was too important. “I never meant to hurt you, the selfish bastard that I am, and if things were different, I would have been most proud to be your boyfriend. Oh, what the hell am I babbling, I _was_ proud to be your boyfriend, I just didn’t deserve it, deserve you. You are so very worthy of love, Jamie, you always treated me much better than I deserved, and my behaviour was inexcusable. I would totally understand if you hated me well into another life, but I’m asking you… not to. I’m a fucked up, lost soul, who just happened to have found himself in another’s eyes. None this should have happened to you, you were just the best boyfriend ever and I’m so, _so_ very sorry that I hurt you. Please stay the way you are. Don’t ever change… that’s my job,” I sniffed.

“Bit late for that,” he murmured, but when I felt his arm on my back, I knew this wonderful, compassionate Potter had somehow found it in his heart to forgive me.

“Merlin, I’m going to miss this,” he sighed next. “The scent of your hair, the way you snuggle up against me…”

He pushed me away gently, and said in a sober voice that still held a smidge of bitterness: “Better not come close for the next couple of weeks… make that months, Scorpius. I might be going through withdrawal symptoms, the whole bloody range of them. And you belong to another boy now, by your own admission.”

I chastely pulled away, not willing to push my good luck, and he sighed heavily once again.

“Damn Hugo…” he mumbled. “In spite of everything, he’s a lucky bastard.”

And then he was gone.

So, I turned to Rose and looked at her sheepishly.

“Now you know…” I offered weakly, but she just nodded, looking resigned and strangely worn out.

“Now I know… You’ve been behaving like a right arse, Scorpius Malfoy!” she looked at me sharply, and I nodded with a knot in my throat, trying to remember where my wand was and such… you know, for defensive purposes only…

“I hope you understand there will be none of that, if you actually manage to persuade Hugo that you are serious about him this time!”

“Rose,” I looked her in the eye. “It’s Hugo. _I wouldn’t dare._ Not again.”

“I sure hope this time, you mean it,” she murmured, and then noticed my pleading eyes: “What?”

“Have you, perhaps, thought of something, _anything_ , that would help me get Hugo back?” I said pathetically, but I’d trampled upon my pride so many times this morning, that I really didn’t think that one more time would matter.

“Other than sending him an owl _“Please come back, Scorpius here is dying to shag you again, and this time he wants the whole world to know”_ – no, not really,” she said cheekily, and – honestly, such an audacity – I gasped!

“Sadly, it would take a while before the owl post reached him in bloody Romania – Grandma Molly is always grunting about the dreadful mail services to that place – and I doubt you want to leave my brother – my heartbroken brother – in the company of over manly men the entire summer.”

Oh, but she was terrible! How could she have reminded me of that?! My hair stood on end at the thought of Hugo spending the hot summer nights in the company of fit and lonely dragon-tamers. They’d eat him alive! Or maybe not. This was Hugo after all, it’s more likely there would be no camp and dragons left in Romania by the time he was done with them. But what if he was so disappointed over me that he’d… he’d want to… Oh, bloody hell, we had to get him back as soon as possible! Bloody _now_ was too late!

“I’m sorry, Scorpius,” Rose said quietly, and this time the pity in her voice was genuine. “I can’t think of something on such short notice. I need more time to think it over properly. Consider it your punishment, if you like, but I’m going to need a day or two for that. I’m not him; I’m not Hugo, and I don’t have one brilliant plan after another at the ready at all times. Come on, let’s just get you back to the castle. We’re due to be leaving home in the afternoon, or have you forgotten?”

I had, but I was too crushed to care. Days! Rose, my brilliant, wonderful friend, needed days to think it over, that’s how hard this was – and even then, it might be more days before we actually executed whatever she would come up with, and I would get to see Hugo again. Anything could happen in _days_! Anything could happen in bloody _hours_ , and I already missed him so.

~

I honestly have no memory of packing and getting to the Hogwarts’ Express that day. I barely remember the ride, it seems as if from one point to another I was standing on the King’s Cross station with my suitcase at my feet, Rose around my neck saying goodbye and that she’d be in contact soon, and a moment later I was staring into the steely grey eyes of my father, Draco Malfoy.

He didn’t hug me – we, the Malfoys, don’t hug – but I could tell he was genuinely pleased to see me. But then he frowned, and spoke swiftly:

“Is everything all right, son?”

I wanted to say ‘No, it bloody well isn’t’, but – Gryffindor or not – I was a born and bred a Malfoy, so I merely nodded, unwilling to make a spectacle of myself, and said in a barely audible voice:

“Let’s just go, Father.”

We’d barely settled ourselves down in the back seat of a spacious limousine Father only ever hired for such an occasion – insisting in spite of Grandfather Lucius’s fierce, indignant protests of preserving ‘the old ways’, that it was a much more comfortable way to travel – when Father already impatiently motioned to the driver to start the engine.

“Have you been picked on, then?” he wanted to know hastily, and in spite of my own heartbreak, I felt his, too. My father greatest fear had always been that someone would have taken their anger out on me for what he did during the war. That was why I had always gone shopping for school supplies only with my mother, that was why he had kept me safe and protected to a point of isolation nearly to the evening of my first departure to Hogwarts. Since then, my safety had been out of his hands, and I believe seeing me mistreated at the hand of my peers was his recurring nightmare, the price he would never stop paying for the part he had played in that blasted war, even if he was only a little more than a child himself back then.

“No, Father, honestly. Nothing of the sort. You know you don’t think much of my friendship to Rose Weasley and Albus Potter, but it is the one thing that protects me better than any spells could. So, no. It isn’t that.”

I saw that a big, heavy stone had rolled off his heart at my words, but his frown wouldn’t quite go away, and I knew he wasn’t done with me yet. Father was nothing, if not thorough. I might as well surrender to my fate and think through carefully, what I was going to tell him. Lying was not an option, however. Father was a Legilimens par excellence and I would be looking at a few very unpleasant weeks of my holidays if I ever tried something so short-sighted and pointless with him. It had to be the truth, of that I was certain, only I didn’t know how much of the truth I was willing to give up – nor how much of it was he willing to take, for that matter. But he didn’t really give me much chance to think.

Magically enhanced, the car took barely minutes to take us to the manor, and I was given no choice of where I was headed once we stepped out of the car. Father had simply taken my hand without another word and Disapparated us. We re-appeared in his study, and I could tell right away that his choice of premises was a good one for a conversation he must have anticipated. The atmosphere of ages old books, the smell of expensive, yet aged leather armchairs, the intimate feel created by the velvet drapes and the sweet scent of candlewax always had a relaxing effect on me.

Without a single word Father walked to the giant ancient globe, cleverly masking a cabinet with spirits, and poured the familiar amber liquid into a heavy crystal glass. Much to my surprise, he took another glass, poured just enough liquid in it to properly cover the bottom, and offered it to me. I think I might have taken it out of pure shock. He drank, I knew that much, though never obsessively, and he always stopped just on the right side of being a gentleman. But he had never until that moment offered a glass of alcohol to me.

“You look like you might need it,” he commented dryly. “Care to tell me what this is about, then?” he looked at me with those sharp-witted grey eyes, and I knew then and there that he wasn’t backing off. “I suppose I deserve to know why my only son returned from school after half a year, looking as if his favourite kneazle had died? It can’t be the O.W.L.s, surely?”

“No, Father. It’s not the O.W.L.s, though I certainly can’t remember much about taking them – I’m afraid I was in a bit of a haze at the time. But I’m happy to report that the part I _do_ remember, went very well, so you needn’t worry about that.”

“Not the O.W.L.s then,” he agreed promptly and without further questions, so I knew he must have anticipated that this was not the issue at hand. “What, then? And for Merlin’s sake, do take a seat, you’re giving me a headache with your incessant pacing about!”

“It’s nothing,” I said when I slumped my behind in one of the familiar, deceptively soft armchairs. “Nothing terribly important, really.”

But those inquisitive grey eyes were on me and I knew that my time for evasion was up. Years had done nothing to make my father less unscrupulous. I could tell this worried him and I knew he would get the information even if he had to take it directly out of my head. He was merciless when he was in his protective mode.

“The thing is… I fell in love,” I finally said heavily, and somehow those words seemed to reduce some of the leaden weight bearing down on my chest. I realised he would most probably find it stupid, so I glanced nervously in his direction, but much to my surprise his astute eyes showed intense interest and he even raised an eyebrow – a clear sign he was invested in hearing what I had to say.

“It would have probably been all right to be in love at this point,” I blurted out hastily, nervously under his scrutinising eyes. “I mean, I’m nearly sixteen, just a matter of days now, and there are those who would call me…”

“A late bloomer,” my father interfered, and the small smirk in the corner of his mouth was a shock to me. Clearly he had been thinking about that…

“Well, yes… precisely,” I murmured. “So being in love would have not been such a grand affair on its own – have I not managed to mess it up utterly and completely. I got involved… with someone, but I managed to fall – hard and all the way – for another person, and I’ve manipulated myself into a corner to a point that now I’ve lost them both. But I only care about one of them. I only care about…”

“It isn’t a Potter, is it?” my father interrupted me once again, and it took my breath away how sharp his voice was. “Because I certainly don’t want any confrontation with half of the Ministry over your love interest, Scorpius. You don’t want to make enemies out of the Potters either, young man. So I hope…”

“No, it isn’t a Potter, Father,” I said quietly, pointedly, slightly pissed off at his insensitive, level-headed sensibility. I took a big gulp of my drink – oh, yes, it was the finest of its kind – and I added with a firewhiskey-induced courage and cheek: “At least the person I’m interested in, isn’t. It was a Potter I dated, however… and cheated on.”

“Merlin, you idiot child!” my father whispered, and put down his glass heavily onto the cocktail table, his fingers trembling. “As if we need more enemies…”

In spite of being hurt by his lesson-in-diplomacy approach when I really needed a father’s sympathetic ear, I couldn’t help but feel sorry about him. All those years he was literally hiding from the world, so careful not to agitate anyone and stir up any of the old resentments. I guess he realised how incredibly lucky he had been to have Harry Potter himself stand up for him, allowing him to lead a fairly decent, if not straight-out luxurious life after all. I couldn’t blame him if the idea of his adolescent son, insulting one of the members of the infamously tight-knit family, irritated and intimidated him. He had sacrificed so much to lead a peaceful existence, and now this.

“What made you think that messing with Albus Potter was a good idea? Couldn’t you be content by merely having him as a friend, perhaps a friend with benefits, if your teenage hormones weren’t to be reasoned with?”

“It wasn’t Al, Father. It was his brother James,” I explained tiredly. “He asked me out, and, stupidly, I said yes, even though I already knew… never mind. Anyway, one thing led to another and we ended up dating.”

“James?! _The_ Potter? The Quidditch prodigy?! And quite a looker, too, I’m told.” Father looked equal parts shocked and impressed.

“That very one,” I confirmed, but then another odd thought struck me: “But how come you’re not surprised it’s a boy? I thought you’d be upset over that more than anything!”

Father only looked uncomfortable for about a second, but then he shrugged and explained with one of those annoyed, trademark smirks of his, lurking in the corner of his mouth:

“Well, normally, it _would_ upset me beyond measure. However… your mother started to worry about your lack of interest in girls when you were about thirteen and after a little… investigation of your premises – nothing too elaborate, I assure you, you were hardly secretive or even discreet – it has come to our attention that you might be leaning towards the admiration of your own sex. For a while, your mother was mortified, but I dare say we’ve had nearly three years to come to peace with it, and we have decided to respect your decision of a life-partner. It wouldn’t do to make you miserable by trying to hold you accountable for something you can’t choose or change.”

Have I mentioned that I have the best set of parents in the entire world? My mother is a saint and my father… well, perhaps not quite there yet, but he makes one hell of a Dad, I can tell you that! I never felt it more than in that moment. Perhaps it was the firewhiskey, or I had been emotionally unstable for days by then, but I leaped out of my chair and hugged my father, completely refusing to acknowledge that this was Draco Malfoy, a man who had raised me that the Malfoys didn’t hug, the man who was probably not hugged twice prior to meeting my mother – and the man who was clearly not immune to breaking his own unspoken rules, as his arm briefly closed around my back and patted me affectionately.

“I was afraid to let you know… I’m the last Malfoy,” I choked out my fear, and that arm closed behind my back even more possessively.

“There, there,” he murmured, and it was incredibly soothing to surrender my weakness to his strength, if only for a little while. “Surely you didn’t expect we were going to disown you once it became apparent were your preferences lay? I would take it as a personal offence. I might not be a perfect father, but I am a better man than that. True, you are my only child, but we are wizards, my dear, and in our world, only the magic matters. We shall discuss your options in continuing the name of Malfoy once you are of age, there might be a few that surprise you. Still, if I understand you correctly, it is not James Potter who had captured your fancy. Who, then, has had the honour?”

“Not a Potter – but a Weasley,” I finally dared to smile and I earned myself another raised eyebrow.

“Dear god… Rose, then? I didn’t think you had it in you. Mother, however, should be pleased,” my father commented, sounding somewhat surprised.

“Wrong again. You’re perfectly right, I _don’t_ have it in me. Not Rose, but Hugo. Hugo Weasley,” I said matter-of-factly, certain that I’d already said the worst. Apparently… not. My father’s crystal glass slipped out of his hand and shattered on the ground, and he nearly choked on the gulp of the firewhiskey he had taken.

“Hu-Hugo?! Are you… _mad_?!”

My surprise nearly matched his.

“Oh. Uhm, I reckon you’ve heard of him?”

I was intrigued. My father didn’t bother with names and people who were insignificant, which could only mean one thing.

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard of him,” Father confirmed, still looking at me somewhat alarmed, as if he wasn’t entirely certain that I wasn’t hexed straight in the head. “Frankly, it’s hard to imagine someone who hasn’t. I was informed that a week ago the Ministry officials threw a party when his mother announced that it was arranged for her son to have a summer job elsewhere this year. Apparently, people have been known to massively request their summer leave when his arrival is announced. The unlucky few who can’t leave have been seen barricading themselves in the offices, when he passes by, counting their stars if he was not by any chance assigned to their department or required to fetch something from them. I was told that the boy is a dangerous kind of reckless if not straight out insane, and…”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I cut through his words impatiently. “He’s… _adventurous_ , perhaps a little too imaginative, that’s for certain, but most of his reputation is exaggerated. Somewhat. I’m sure at least certain things he is supposed to have done were blown out of proportions. Anyway, have you actually met him?”

“I have so far been spared the dubious honour of being introduced,” my father chose his words carefully, but the expression on his face told me he was holding something back.

“But…?” I urged him to continue. “Come on, Father. You are a man who doesn’t just take anyone’s word as a given. Surely you must have formed an opinion. The very fact that you know his name tells me you consider him significant. You would have gleefully dismissed him as a teenage Weasley vandal otherwise. There’s got to be something!”

Again, a raised eyebrow. I certainly managed to surprised my father more than once that afternoon.

“Your assumptions are impressively correct, young man,” he said, and the satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable this time. “I dare say your sense of observation is a thing to behold. As to your chosen one… my sources – quite unofficial ones, of course – tell me that the young man in question is exceptionally intelligent and has been working with our Department of the Unspeakables for the past couple of years – since he was thirteen, to be precise. Only during his holidays, of course. I don’t think the Ministry’s premises could take much more of his… explosive presence.”

And now it was _my_ turn for _my_ jaw to hit the ground. Hugo was doing – what?! No wonder he had access to all those highly-classified potions! But father merely smiled his kneazle-about-to-eat-the-mouse smile and seemed quite pleased to see me so genuinely surprised.

“Apparently, his unique set of talents makes him quite priceless,” he added in a slow, calculated voice. “The very same sources suggest that McGonagall has been under clear instructions to ignore his… controversial experiments at school in the benefit of the young prodigy getting a proper formal education that would allow the Ministry to eventually officially procure his services. In short, the boy is brilliant to the point of danger. And that, my dear, is more than a little intriguing. But he’s Granger’s and Weasley’s son. Hardly anything else could have been expected,” he shrugged. “But, pray, how did the young genius capture your attention and steal you from under the very nose of James Potter, hm?”

Once again, he seemed genuinely intrigued, and I was more than happy to oblige. Try and stop me, Draco Malfoy, as I pour my admiration and my love into words.

“He is exceptional, Father. He knocked me off my feet with a single kiss, I swear it. Perhaps you won’t be able to see it -  nearly no one does – but my Hugo has a charisma about him that makes him stand out like a sun from the cloudy skies. He… _shines_. He simply shines. His knock-out smile does, his captivating eyes – he’s got the most intense, most mesmerising blue eyes you’re ever likely to see, _everyone_ says so – but most of all, his personality. He is simply unique. Perhaps one may not find him _exceptionally_ good looking at the first glance – I suppose he doesn’t meet as many beauty standards as James Potter… yet – but for me, it’s all there. His presence, his sense of humour, his warmth, his loyalty, his brilliance, his quiet self-confidence, his compassion, the way he loves me – all of it. I love it all. I mean, he released a Make-A-Wish on me to make me confess that I loved him! How crazy brilliant is that?! I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t get him back, get him to trust me again! If only I could talk to him…”

My voice betrayed me. Merely talking about Hugo had brought back a violent feeling of missing him, and a brutal sense of what I’ve lost. Merlin, how could I have been so stupid, so negligent?!

“Merlin’s bearded mother,” my Father murmured, looking almost stunned. “Make-A-Wish, you say... The boy sounds crazy... in an interesting way. It appears you’re quite serious about your attachment to the young man…”

“I love him, Father!” I barked, irritated at him for sticking to his formality. “No point in beating around the bush. I love him enough to have given him your precious necklace!”

Another gulp of firewhiskey went down the wrong path and this time I had to actually tap his back to make him cough out the residue of the drink. He looked shocked beyond words, and I felt somewhat ashamed for having lost my temper with him. I realised he must be dying for some sort of explanation.

“I am certainly not fit to wear it, ever – not after what I did,” I said quietly, suddenly too mortified to look him in the eye. “But it fits him like it was made for him, you should see him, he’s so…” Once again I was lost for words. How could I possibly paint my father of a naked Hugo Weasley, wearing nothing but the necklace, looking like a god. I couldn’t, even if this was not my stuck-up Father. Instead, I tried to explain the rest.

“I was so obsessed by trying to get myself the _right_ kind of a boyfriend, that I tried to ignore and neglect how I felt about Hugo, what we had – but in the end, I couldn’t. I was too much of a coward to let James go, but I couldn’t… I just couldn’t give him the love he deserved. I couldn’t give into him, I couldn’t return his feelings, I couldn’t even sleep with him. But I did, with Hugo, and then I knew. I had made a right mess of things in the end, but before I could finally make my decision clear, James had figured out my deception and Hugo was gone. He’s in bloody Romania with his uncle Charlie, _for the entire summer_ , and I have to get him back. I have to! I’ll die of this fucking love if I don’t!”

And here I was, crying again like a nancy, and it seemed that was all I was capable of on that wretched day. But this time I did feel my father’s arms around me, and I sniffed for a good long while into the crook of his neck, against the comforting feeling of his hands travelling soothingly down my back. He said nothing for the longest time, not until my sobbing subsided and he quietly offered me a handkerchief to dry my face. I most gratefully accepted it, feeling like a right fool, but strangely empty, and a tad better.    

When my father did speak, however, it was his usual Malfoyian calm drawl.

“I dare say it won’t do for a Malfoy to cry over a Weasley, darling. I suppose… we’d have to fix this.”

I hugged him, this time tightly and for real, and I could tell without looking at him, that my trust and my gratitude pleased him greatly, and perhaps moved him a little.

“I would have to know more, though,” he said with that same controlling voice. “How certain are you that your boy is in Romania?”

“Entirely. I mean, quite. I saw him fly away on the back of a dragon with my own eyes and Rose told me where they were going. It was supposed to be a part of his birthday present. He always wanted to go there. But Rose told me, he didn’t look like he much wanted to go there _now_. But I suppose he wanted to run from me after what I’d done.”

The raised eyebrow again.

“You saw him fly away _on the back of a dragon_? My, that’s… extravagant. But then again, it’s the Weasleys… they’re all about spectacular… flying cars and such… hardly a sensible lot. Pray, do you remember, what colour was the dragon?”

Huh? What _colour_ … was the dragon?! How did that matter in any way? Either my father was being too particular or I was missing something major. Still, I thought very hard… and I thought I knew.

“Green… I think it might have been green. I didn’t get a very good look at it… and I wasn’t exactly paying attention to the colour… but still. Yes, green.”

Judging by the small smirk in the corner of his mouth, the answer seemed to please him.

“I had thought as much,” he murmured to himself. Then he turned to me and looked me in the eye.

“You do realise, perhaps, that riding a dragon – for any length of time – is highly extraordinary, and a more precarious business with every second a person spends on a dragon’s back? They are magnificent creatures, highly individual, certainly not meant to be ridden. They aren’t hippogriffs or thestrals, you know. _No one_ rides a dragon across the Europe, not even Charlie Weasley. They would be frozen stiff by the time they made it across the channel! So, no. But it is quite possible – _for an experienced dragon-tamer_ – to ride a dragon to the closest dragon resort on the British Isles from where I imagine, one could secure an international portkey to the Romanian dragon resort. And considering your dragon was most likely the Common Welsh Green…”

“Hugo could still be in Wales!” I exclaimed, absolutely _loving_ my dad and his magnificent mind.

“Well, yes, that depends on the speed of the international transport these days – which used to be appalling in my day. Still, we have no idea where the resort is – I never was much of a dragon lover myself… but we might have a way around that. Come, hold on to me tight. We must do this quickly. Time might be of the essence. If he closed up for the day already…”

That was all he had said before he Disapparated us. The next thing I knew, we found ourselves in the Diagon Alley, right in front of the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. An exceptionally tall man with rich red hair was busy locking up the shop.

“Weasley! Ronald… a word,” my father called, and when the man turned around I indeed recognised Rose’s father. The surprise on his face was evident.

“Scorpius…” he nodded at me in a friendly way – you see, I was practically _adopted_ at the Weasley’s during the summers – but when he looked at my father, his blue eyes grew significantly more wary, and a frown appeared on his face.

“Malfoy… and Malfoy. What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

“We would very much like to know the whereabouts of your son,” my father spoke calmly. “You see, I believe he has something that belongs to Scorpius.”

 _What?! No! What?!_ He wasn’t going to make that about the necklace, was he?! How heartless was he?!

The frown on Ron Weasley’s face deepened and morphed into a right scowl.

“I doubt my son would take anything that belongs to you, Malfoy. It’s been a while since we were poor, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the worldly possessions, you know,” my father said pleasantly. “I was talking about my son’s heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't even go there this time - it's taking me ages to come up with anything halfway decent these days, so I'll just go on and apologise in advance if you find this chapter unlikely and boring - perhaps the finale, in my unreliable plans just a chapter away - will somehow miraculously save this silly story. Or completely put you off my writing who's to say, LOL?! :) Enjoy, if you can find something to do so.


	8. Into the dragon lair

Blimey, Father… I didn’t know you had it in you! The romantic streak in this particular parent of mine was a proper shock to me. But not as much as to one Ronald Weasley. He had _actually_ let his precious _key_ drop on the ground. _His key!_ Of course, the bloody key did little to protect their shop – the Diagon Alley wasn’t exactly crawling with Muggles and the elaborate locking charms and the well-known owners’ ability to retribute for mischief more than did the job – but according to Rose, her father loved that key. It was a symbol of his ownership, of his professional success, of him winning at life that offered little prospects to once-poor Ronald Weasley, who, by his own account, never thought he would amount to much. Ronald was always there to lock up, Rose told me. That’s how he liked to end his day: by looking on his good fortune and smiling at his silly key and his kind fate. So, when the key dropped, I knew it was serious.

He picked it up quickly, not by bending down, but by making it zoom into his hand, and this time, he was not smiling. He had a confused, suspicious expression on his face, as if he wasn’t entirely sure that the United Front of Terrible Malfoys didn’t simply decide to pull his leg.

“What are you on about?” he asked, his face frowning. “I thought he was… I thought you were…” He had changed his mind mid-sentence and looked at me, and I knew what he was going to say: he knew about James and I ever since James required his assistance in that disastrous Room of the requirement plan, yet Ron Weasley wasn’t entirely sure if my father knew and didn’t want to embarrass me in front of him. That… was lovely of him, to be honest. I guess I finally figured out where Hugo got it from.

“If you are referring to me, dating your godson James for the last couple of months, yes, that bit was true,” I told him sincerely, though with no little amount of embarrassment. “The operative word being _was_ , of course,” I added as quickly as I could. “We broke up this morning because… because I could no longer keep my feelings for your son at bay. I was quite… smitten with Hugh before I started dating James, but I thought him too young and I couldn’t see… “ – oh, Merlin, how to tell him that I thought his son was not good enough for me without him hexing me into my early grave? – “… I couldn’t quite see how we could be compatible,” I finally uttered miserably.

He was looking at me with those sharp Weasley-blue eyes as if he was trying to figure how much I was adjusting the truth, and I swallowed thickly. Just when he frowned a little and I thought that it was all over – that he was going to tell me what a bloody fraud I was and to get the hell away from his son – he tilted his head gently – another bittersweet reminder of whose father he was – and offered me a single word:

“But…?”

And I couldn’t jump at my one chance fast enough. My treacherous voice was shaking, because this was so bloody important, but I dove into the hazardous water without a single thought to spare:

“But I’m too crazy about him to stay away. Sorry… I mean, yeah… I don’t have other words. I thought I could date someone else while he was… um, off-limits, and for a while I tried, I really tried. But though James is totally gorgeous and the best bloke ever, I just… couldn’t. I couldn’t, yeah? I kept thinking of Hugo, I kept drifting towards him – and every time I dragged myself back again, away from him, I felt more like shit – sorry, uhm, yeah – and more wrong. I totally fu… screwed up my relationship with James and I was making myself and Hugo miserable. So, in the end, I told him I wanted to be with him, and I was, I mean, we were, uhm… you know… _together_. But then I fu – … I mean I bollocksed that up as well, and I used the wrong words – just my bloody luck! I said something that could be interpreted the way I had meant it or quite the opposite way, really, and now… Now we’re both miserable and I really, _really_ need to see him and tell him how I had _actually_ meant it, and how bonkers I am about him. And if you could only…”

I stopped, because Ron Weasley’s shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter and he didn’t really bother to keep his booming voice down:

“Your son said “ _bollocksed_ ”, Malfoy!”

“Of course he did, you… big ginger adolescent,” my father replied mildly, with a small smirk in the corner of his mouth, keeping remarkably calm. “I keep telling him that he can’t expect his manners to improve by associating with you, freckled lot, but the spoilt brat insists, imagine that! Not only he has stubbornly remained best friends with your daughter over the years, I’m afraid he can’t be persuaded to stay away from your – uhm, shall we call him interesting? notorious? – son either. He’s quite convinced, I assure you. Dug his heels in, and all. So, if you’d be so kind as to point us in the direction where your brother Charles took your son – I was told, in quite a spectacular fashion – before he is lost to us in god-forsaken mountains of Romania, we’d be most grateful. Time could be of the essence, you know.”

“Wait…” Ron Weasley’s face once again contorted in a frown. “You mean, you don’t object? To my son and yours? I was willing to point this fine – eloquent, heh – son of yours in the right direction just to spite you! You can’t tell me you’ll take all the fun out of it for me?!”

“Weasley, you absolute… simpleton,” my father rolled his eyes up, but much to my surprise it brought a little ghost of a smile onto Ron Weasles’y face. “Why would I possibly bother dragging my only son around, still in his Hogwarts clothes, if I opposed?” my father wanted to know with pompous indignation and a raised blond eyebrow, that was really getting its annual portion of exercise this evening.

“Besides – much good would it do me, if I did!” my distinguished parent then hmpf-ed and made a face. “I can see you and my son are _not_ very well acquainted, in spite of his many visits to your home. This fine, benevolent-looking child of mine can honestly put any determined mule to shame when he wraps his mind around something – well, _someone_ in this case. So, this is it, I’m afraid. Might as well call this one a deal, and start calling you _‘Ronald, old chap’_ because it appears we’re going to be related,” my father commented dryly, and this time Ron Weasley actually knocked his head backwards and roared with laughter.

“Good grief, surely not… Draco, old chum,” he managed to choke out, before the sour expression on my father’s face made his booming laughter explode again.

“Oh, my fucking Christ in Merlin’s reindeer sweater, I haven’t laughed this hard since Hugo accidentally stuck fairy wings onto Harry’s back and he had to go to work like that.”

I couldn’t help it – I knew it was inappropriate, but the mental image of Head Auror Potter floating around with fairy wings on his back made me quite unfit to hold back a giggle. Even my stern father could barely swallow a smile.

“Merlin… what do you lot get up to?” he murmured, trying in vain to sound indignant rather than entertained, but this time Ron Weasley just shrugged nonchalantly and _winked_ at me:

“You’ll find out soon enough if you’re going to be a part of the family. Just you wait until the first family dinner…” he said, with traces of laughter still lingering about his voice that made it sound a little less than a promise of doom that it probably was.

And this time it was my father’s turn to look intrigued.

“You… surprise me, Weasley,” he suddenly blurted out. “I confess I expected more resistance to the idea of your son and mine forming… a bond?”

But Ron Weasley just chuckled.

“It’s obvious you never met my son _at all_ , Malfoy. I’m sure Scorpius can enlighten you in detail, but let’s just say that Hugo didn’t get his reputation _undeserved_. Frankly, I’d rather go against your mad aunt Bella – dead or not – armed with an Elder wand, than against my devious, unscrupulous child. Blimey, I’d probably never sleep again if I tried to stand in the way of his heart. My son is _smart_ , Malfoy,” the redhead said with no small amount of fatherly pride. “Smart and brave; determined and perfectly obsessed when he truly wants something. And if he managed to persuade Scorpius that he was right for him, there’s _no doubt_ in my mind he truly wants him – and no one else will do.”

Bless the man… bless him! That was Hugo’s father, right here, and he had given me hope beyond anything I thought possible. I tried to express my gratitude with a huge grin that just slipped off my lips and very likely made me looked a tad demented, but he returned it with his own, and added matter-of-factly:

“And as far as I go, I reckon he could have made a worse choice. Some son you’ve got, Malfoy.”

“Quite,” my father replied calmly, but still looked uncommonly pleased. “Do you ever wonder what would happen if we were braver in our choices?” he asked unexpectedly, and though I was left wondering what he had meant by it, Ron Weasley seemed to understand.

“Only all the time,” he said quietly. “As you might imagine, I’m determined not to see my son make the same mistakes.”

“Potter?” my father said nearly gently, and I remembered Hugo’s words. Finally, I knew what this was all about, and Ron Weasley didn’t need to confirm – the expression on his face spoke volumes.

“None of your business,” he finally said curtly, but my father didn’t seem insulted, merely resigned.

“Enough of this nonsense,” the redhead cut off abruptly, obviously determined not to linger upon things he could not fix. His voice was all business again. “I reckon you want to follow me, gentlemen. As you correctly pin-pointed, Malfoy – time might be off the essence. So, your boy can’t Disapparate on his own yet? Merlin, they’re so young! At this age, I was still exchanging my Victor Krum Quidditch cards,” he mumbled, and then ordered us adamantly: “Hold on to some part of me, firmly, unless you want to end up in the sea. This one is a long one.”

So, I promptly took Ron Weasley’s warm, giant hand, and after a bit of hesitation and the obligatory eye-roll, my father took his other hand.

“The things I do for my child…” were the last words he grunted before we disappeared into a rubbery blob of nothingness.

~

The first thing I heard when the whoosh of air from the Apparition was gone, was a magnificent roar. _Seriously._ Magnificent. Blood-curdling if you like. And the sight was no less petrifying. We found ourselves literally feet away from a majestic silver dragon, scaled, horned and mean-looking. Even with wings folded it was still looking like a small mountain, and what really made me nearly jump out of my jittery skin was the sight of it trying to burn a hole through invisible barrier held in place by a single man, a very scarred middle-aged wizard, performing intricate spells with the wand. The only comforting fact was, that the beast was currently facing away from us, clearly all the way too livid to notice the presence of three intruders it could easily squash with a mere sweep of its spiked tail. Merlin… Hugo was madder than I thought! Who’d ever want to work with _those_?! Was he all right?! Heavens…!

“Ups,” Ron Weasley said – calmly enough, given the circumstances! – though he had a good grace of looking alarmed and a bit sheepish. “Stay perfectly calm, will you? We might have apparated into the dragon’s enclosure by mistake. I swear they must have moved the damn thing… Bloody hell, I forgot how big those beasts were. Still, we should be all right if we manage to remain very still. Take my hands again, the pair of you. I’ll move us just a bit…”

In the next second I felt another wooosh of Apparition and we found ourselves mere yards away from the roaring dragon, this time in front of him, but behind the barrier, clearly visible from this perspective.

“Sorry about that. I swear it was not so close to the sea last time I was here! Anyone missing something? Uhm, like, an eyebrow or such…?”

His voice died at the sight of my father’s livid face.

“Weasley, you idiot!” my concerned parent barked without a second’s delay. “I swear if something happened to my son…”

“But it didn’t!” I said quickly, eager to get out of this particular, very heated, spot – figuratively and literally – as soon as possible. What if Hugo was in danger?! He could be hurting! Clearly they didn’t have everything under control in this circus, and the very thought of his reckless bravery and his fascination with the scaly beasts sent shivers down my spine.

“Let’s just get out of here,” I pleaded with my father, purposefully ignoring his fuming face, because, frankly, I didn’t give a rat’s arse how badly he wanted to give Ron Weasley a piece of his mind – not nearly frantic with worry and anxiety as I was! Time for my secret weapon, then…

“Please, Father… Dad,” I looked my upset parent straight in the eye. “Nothing happened, honestly. And I really just want to see Hugo… what if he’s hurt?”  

I kind of choked a bit on that last sentence, but it was not my emotion that broke his resolve. Calling my father _‘Dad’_ was something I didn’t do very often, so I reckon he knew I meant business when I played that card. I had a suspicion it melted his heart just a little when I did it, and for Hugo, I was willing to be as heart-melting as it took! My father’s eyes softened a little, and when Ron Weasley unexpectedly clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly way – _“Yeah, let’s find my son, Malfoy, this is what we’re here for. I’ll buy you a pint later and you can shout all you like at me for my incompetence in front of all the local charred dragon-minders!”_ – Draco Malfoy somehow managed to swallow all his spiky remarks and he only snorted in reply.

“Sounds like a fair deal, I suppose. Lead the way, you ginger menace. I don’t wish to perish under the accusatory arrows from my son’s eyes aimed at me.”

In the end, we had to ask a few people – all of them worse for wear – if anyone had seen a underage lad running around the camp freely – surely an uncommon sight to behold – but no one had. Perhaps they had left already, and we were too late! Oh, I was completely ready to work myself into a frenzy, until…

“You wouldn’t happen to know if any recent apparitions took place recently?” my father politely asked a tall, chatty fellow, that seemed like the millionth muscled, scarred man we encountered.

“Nope, no international apparitions took place since noon, sorry,” said the man, and smiled good-naturedly. “Someone thought it was funny to nick all the portkeys and we haven’t been able to find them yet,” he explained, sounding half irritated, half entertained. “It’s usually quite calm here, but today the bloody place is a nuthouse!”

He kept talking, but I had already heard what I wanted to hear. _Someone nicked all the portkeys._ Talk about the leaving a mark! And he was still here, he hadn’t gone yet – didn’t want to leave, perhaps? Oh, time was indeed of the essence!

“Please,” I said hastily. “Have you perhaps seen a boy – a young man – oh, damn, someone my age? We’re looking for him and he shouldn’t be that hard to spot – I don’t think this place is exactly crawling with kids, nor it should be! – but no one seems to have seen him! Have you, perhaps…”

“You must be talking about Charlie’s nephew, I reckon. About as tall as Charlie, same red hair, lots of freckles? Very bright blue eyes?”

When I kept nodding enthusiastically through his words, eagerly enough to break my neck, he whistled, and pointed us to a stone shed, about the length of a Quidditch field away from us:

“Good luck with that one! What a kid! He took on a fully grown Ukrainian Ironbelly, when it broke the confine about half an hour ago! He got injured a bit, obviously, but he survived, imagine that, and the dragon still looks a bit drowsy – I don’t know what the hell he hit it with! Aren’t you, kids, not supposed to do magic outside of Hogwarts? Anyway, he should be in there. Someone’s taking care of him. Crazy lad. Totally brilliant.”

I was right! He was injured! Oh, my god, I stupidly let him leave and he got injured and now… what if I never see him again?! How badly was he injured? I didn't even bother giving the man my 'thank yous' for the valuable information, I was too busy sprinting towards the shed not giving a damn about gratitude or my father and Ron Weasley keeping up. But they were clearly on my heels when I heard Ron Weasley’s voice pant angrily in a worried voice:

“Bloody child! He’ll be the death of me, he will! Can’t let him out of my sight, not ever, not for a moment, not since he started bloody walking! All the portkeys missing? I bet you my wand-hand that was him! And now he got injured! Hermione is going to fry my balls in front of me for this, for having talked her into this madness!”

“Calm down, Weasley,” my father tried to be reasonable, but for once he didn’t sound too patronising or snotty. “I’m sure your son is all right. You heard the man; he said he had survived…”

All right, so I never claimed that my father’s sense for giving comfort was well developed… But having said that, you have to give him some credit: at least he tried to sound sympathetic towards _one Weasley_ , and surely, that was nothing short of a blasphemy according to the unwritten book on “How to be a Malfoy”. But at that moment I cared very little for their bickering and the way their relationship was progressing from “intolerable” to a grumpy “if I must”. I had reached the door of the shed and I barged right through, without ever considering if it might be locked or warded. I was lucky. It opened without hexing me back to the Middle ages, and the sight that met me took my breath away.

Hugo, my beautiful Hugh, was sitting on the sturdy old stool in the middle of the room, with his bare back against the door – and he seemed perfectly alright, and very much alive. His flaming hair was once again caught in a man-bun, exposing that beautiful strong, elegant neck I as good as worshipped, and leaving miles and miles of that creamy skin I loved to mark freely on display. The necklace I gave him seemed to still be safely in place; shimmering around his neck like a silver snake. _Oh.My.God,_ he was a vision! My mouth dried up at the sight of him, and I’m afraid my relieved squeak “Hugo…” came out of my mouth quite soundless.

But then there was movement in the tiny room, and suddenly it looked as if the place got entirely filled up by a presence of a very fit, shirtless man, that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and came to stand behind my Hugh, all the way too close for my liking. I’ve honestly never seen anyone with wider shoulders and more badass dragon-tattoos etched across a ridiculously muscled back, and my heartbeat suddenly kicked into a rage at the sight of such competition.

“Hold those up,” the man ordered in a deep voice, sweeping the few lose strands of Hugo’s silken hair from his neck, and it wasn’t until Hugo’s arm shot up to oblige him that I realised what was about to happen. It only took one look at those large hands, sliding across _my_ beloved back, rubbing intently around those sexy square shoulders, I loved to hold on to when we made love, to completely derail me. That, there, was _mine_. _Mine alone! Mine!!!_

I didn’t even think. There was no time for that. The wave of possessiveness and jealousy that washed over me was entirely irrational and all the way unstoppable. To this day, I can’t remember taking my wand out and I could not, for the love of Merlin, recall later, what I had hit him with.

“Get away from him!!!” I screeched at the top of my lungs as I launched myself at them. “He’s mine! He’s taken! Can’t you see?! You can’t have him!”

“What the actual fuck…?” the man growled, sounding confused, yet jumping away as if he had been stung. But I pad him no attention. I wanted my Hugh, I wanted to know if we were all right, I wanted to beg him not to leave me.

“Scorpius?!” my beloved redhead finally turned towards me with an incredulous look in those stunning blue eyes, and it only took one glimpse of that pretty, freckled face to melt what was left of my self-restraint and bits of sanity, into a useless puddle. “What on Merlin’s poxy earth…? How did you…?”

“Hugh, I’m so sorry!” I blurted out as I fell around his neck. I paid no attention to the fact that I nearly knocked him over, I kept on blathering with no sense whatsoever as if my life depended on it.

“I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry… Please, don’t be mad at me… I’m bonkers about you, I love you. I know I screwed up… I said it all wrong… I came as fast as I could… Please, don’t leave with him! I love you more!”

I wasn’t properly comforted until I felt his arms wrap around me and hold me close, and I let myself drown in that unique, divine Hugo scent that always made me yearn for more… and inevitably made me go hard. Oh, bloody hell, I needed this! He was hugging me back, he wasn’t angry! Oh, the feeling of him wrapped around me was almost too much. I was such an emotional wreck I felt like bawling. If I could have it my way, I would have melted right into him and never leave.

“Well, I _did_ want to leave with him…” he murmured quietly, sounding strangely entertained – and I couldn’t for the love of god figure out why, because there was clearly _nothing_ to laugh about! How was this a laughing matter?!

“You can’t!” I half-sobbed, and held onto him tightly enough to bruise. “I won’t let you. You can’t. I love you,” I sniffed, feeling the silly angry tears pooling in my eyes. Why was he so heartless?!

“Scorpius…”

He whispered my name gently in my ear, the way it made me shiver, and then nuzzled against me like a giant ginger kneazle begging for forgiveness.

“My silly Scorpius…”

It totally melted my heart, hearing him call me ‘his’, all right?! It did. Oh, god, let there still be hope for us…

“Bloody hell, Charlie, you’re bleeding! Was that the dragon or Malfoy’s nutjob son?” I heard a half worried, half entertained voice of Ron Weasley’s emerging from some place behind my back.

Well, that _Charlie_ could go and fuck of! He wasn’t having my Hugh. He wasn’t… oh. _Charlie._ That wouldn’t be…

I finally pulled my head out of Hugo’s embrace just a smidge, only to take a closer look at my rival, and much to my horror I noticed that the tightly cropped hair was indeed bright red, and then there were all those freckles… a proper ocean of them… oh. _Oh!_ Oh, bloody hell. Just my fucking luck. I'll have an Avada K. over here, please, undiluted. Even my distinguished father looked as he was barely keeping a good hearty laughter at bay, and that was saying something!

“Scorpius Malfoy, meet my brother Charlie… Hugo’s _uncle_ ,” the bark of laughter that escaped Ron Weasley mid-sentence confirmed my worst fears. I felt like dying on the spot of embarrassment… and quite a bit of relief, to be honest. But, seriously – how was I supposed to know?! How did someone called ‘Uncle’ end up looking like a hunky sex bomb?! It was improper! And confusing!

“Charlie, this is Hugo’s boyfriend Scorpius Malfoy. He’s got… attachment issues.”

“Bloody hell! A tad mental, is he?” the redheaded brute mumbled to himself, nursing his bleeding arm and looking in general very grumpy. “A Malfoy, you said? I reckon I’m lucky he only got me in one arm, Dad always said they wanted to skin us alive. Is there anyone here that can actually do some quick, on-the-spot healing before I bleed out? I prefer you don’t come near me, Ronnekins, I’d hate it if my wound suddenly started splurting slugs!”

Huh?!

“Git!” Ron Weasley mumbled, but none too resentfully. “Suits you right. You should know better than to come between a mating dragon and his mate,” he waved in my direction. “I’ll let Malfoy Senior here fuck you up if my healing skills aren’t good enough for Mr. Head Dragon-Tamer.” 

“It’s dragon care-taker, Ronnie-boy… and Merlin the sockless, just how many Malfoys did you bring along?!”

I didn’t hear my father’s reply, because at that moment Hugo tugged on a loose strand of my hair gently, and murmured in my ear:

“They can do this forever… Want to get out of here for a bit?”

“Oh, god, yes!” I blurted out, and in a laughable attempt to rescue some of my dignity I added quickly: “We need to, uhm, you know… _talk_ …”

But at that moment he kissed me just under the ear and when his warm breath teased the shell of my ear, I promptly forgot my own name and the rest of my sentence with it.

“We do?” he chuckled playfully, and as he kissed the same spot just under my other ear, I was rapidly losing my footing.

“Yessss!” I gasped out, and made a desperate attempt to clarify that it wasn’t just the talk I was interested in. “That… and more… _ohgodHugh_ …”

“Any objections to putting that ‘ _more’_ first?” he proposed innocently, and I bit my lip, hard, not to moan out loud. “You see, I’m kind of desperate over here. Can’t keep my hands off you, I’m afraid… You smell of pure… undiluted… sex, and I keep getting those really inappropriate, dirty thoughts about you… in much less clothes, you lovely fuckable thing…”

Merlin, Hugh… give the boy a warning. I nearly squealed in horny delight in a most undignified way. Oh, dammit, I could have really done with that Apparition licence right about then, so I could just hold on to him as we got away. You see, I couldn’t handle our hug dissolving, not even for a little. I was dead paranoid I would lose him again. So, risking that I would sound utterly silly and overly clingy, I nuzzled into his neck, and whispered:

“I’ll let you fuck me anyway you like if you promise not to let go of me. Hold my hand… or something. I don’t want to chase after you again… like, ever,” I said sheepishly, not giving a flying fuck if I was being cheesy. Totally worth it, I reckoned, when his soft, hungry mouth sought out mine, and I got my final confirmation that I had made the right decision: just a taste of demanding soft flesh teasing my lips open, the familiar, addictive, god-sexy flavour of him melting my insides into a goo, that delectable, slick tongue slipping into my mouth and pressing against my own like a true master… oh, Merlin, yesssss! It only took one long, delightful, heady kiss to instantly made my knees buck. Sweet Jesus… did he taste of _more_ … oh… bloody hell, I missed him… half a day and I missed him stupidly. I never wanted to let go; I was most certainly _not_ kidding about that!

“If I had it my way, I’d never let you leave in the first place,” he whispered into our kiss, somehow reading my thoughts, the way he would. “But we can’t do this here… your father would decapitate me if he could read my filthy mind right now… God, you taste delicious… I just might have to eat you alive, Scorpius… every inch of you… This sinful, sweet mouth of yours is only a start… I’ll have all of you, baby… again and again… just like last night… punish your nipples just the way you like it, only to make them burn a little… visit those marks I left on those beautiful narrow hips of yours… fit my mouth around your…”

“Hugo!” I gasped – whimpered really, quite pleadingly – because my cock was pressed hard against the confines of my trousers, leaking ridiculously at the sweet promises of his words and I wanted nothing better than to get knocked against the nearest wall and fucked right into it. “Please, baby… you need to…”

“I need to make good of my words, that’s what I need to do,” he murmured, his voice hard, sexy and determined in a way that it nearly made my liquefied insides spill out at his feet. “I need you, Scorpius Malfoy. I need you so much; right now. _Right.Fucking.Now._ ”

Fuck those fucking words…  They made me want to eat them straight out of his seductive mouth and bite and chew them straight off those luscious lips to make them real, because we were stuck in this fucked up place, with our fathers chattering at our backs, and bloody words were all I was likely to get.

But I forgot who I chose. This was Hugo Weasley, my crazy, wonderful Hugh, and impossible was his core business. He tore his divine mouth away from me – forcefully, because there was no other way, making me whimper shamelessly – but when he casually locked out hands together his strong fingers spoke of a promise about to be fulfilled, and somehow, he managed to charge me even more with sweet expectation. I was nearly dizzy with lust and quite ready to beg.

“I’m just going to show Scorp here around for a bit while you fix Uncle Charlie up,” he carelessly threw against the set of our parents, and pulled me behind before anyone could object.

“Scorpius!” I heard my father call behind me, sounding anxious, but at the same time the growling voice of Charles Weasley rolled over him like a freight-train.

“Mind my arm, Malfoy! Aren’t you supposed to be good with this healing shit? And for fuck’s sake let them go. If they release any more pheromones, I’ll get sex poisoning. You heard my brother: you don’t want to be standing between the mating dragon and his mate.”

And shockingly, my father shut up. Or, alternatively, could have been having a coronary at the shocking realisation that his baby was about to have some good ol’ dirty shagging. Whichever. In any event, no one tried to stop me to follow Hugo, and follow I did. I would have gone to hell with him for nothing but a kiss and a promise of forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry - for the delay in posting, and for deceiving you and everyone into thinking this would be the last chapter, but I just couldn't pull it together properly, so I had to leave the very last part for next time. I know it's not an excuse, but at least in a way of explanation: my life has gone from over-worked to are-you-fucking-mental-slow-down-the-coronary-pace for a period of two or three weeks and I just couldn't muster any proper writing. I'm promise there's a bit of smut and romance at the very end, if anyone still feels like reading. :P This story's commentary is just one big apology, LOL!


	9. To have and to keep

It was no easy feat to stroll behind Hugo and his long steps on my wobbly legs and the hippogriff’s hard-on between my legs, but fortunately we didn’t go far. With nothing but the feeble moonlight to light our way I couldn’t really discern where we were going at all, but with Hugo holding my hand firmly I knew wherever he took us, it would do.

He didn’t say much – not a word, actually – but he didn’t need to. His strong, warm fingers were intertwined with mine as we made our way through the night that never quite got the message that it was summer and that it was supposed to be warm, but I wasn’t about to complain. He was actually here, near me, smelling of warm skin and a sweet promise of that profound intimacy between us that seemed to wrap around my very core and made me feel anchored, owned, and sparkling with life. I was walking by his side quietly, as if entranced by his presence, and it brought back the bittersweet memories of our quiet strolls to the Quidditch pitch that always filled me with ache and yearning. It was hardly any better this night. Hugo Weasley was my poison from the very first night out lips touched, and I’d rather die of an overdose than let him go.

“In here,” he spoke quietly and opened the makeshift door, that looked as if it was built directly into the side of one of the many hills surrounding the resort. The place we found ourselves in felt strangely… _filled_ though I could not, for the love of Merlin, figure out how big it was. There seemed to be a bit of moonlight coming in from somewhere, barely enough to detect the shades and a golden glitter of Hugo’s flaming hair, but something about the smell of the place was odd. It was almost like… the smell of an open hearth, not unlike the smell of smouldering embers. We wouldn't be inside of a chimney, would we? That was extreme even by Hugo's standards!

He didn’t give me the time to figure it out. His hands crawled around my neck and his lips found mine… oh, god, yes… so good… so bloody good and achingly perfect I no longer cared if I was on the very threshold of hell. Before I knew it, I found myself pressed backwards until my back hit the giant, warm, curved surface, that felt strangely rough and... not quite solid. What the fuck?!

“There you go, baby…” he murmured into our kiss. “I reckon we’re safe in case your father has a change of heart about chasing after us. No one is going to look for us _here_ , my love,” my mad, bad boyfriend whispered as his warm, enticing mouth sought out my melting point, slowly licking the tender skin just over the pulse on my neck, instantly reducing me to a whimpering mess.

“Just… relax… and try not to be too loud.”

A grunt that seemed something like a restless snore followed his words and – just for the record – it wasn’t me.

“Oh, my fucking God…” I blurted out when I finally figured out where I was, and my heartbeat just shot through the bloody roof. My eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness and when I tilted my head to allow Hugo’s greedy mouth better access I could finally discern the giant form, breathing heavily behind me. Fuck, I was… my back was pressed against the living, breathing body of a sleeping dragon, and Hugo Weasley had just dropped on his knees in front of me. The sense of danger, the exhilaration and lust all melted into one when he opened my pants expertly and licked my hard, aching cock with slow pleasure.

“ _JesusMerlin_ , Hugh…” I squeaked, because my beautiful crazy lover just gave fucking with danger a complete new meaning. But he swallowed my shaft in that moment, the whole fucking thing, and the one hand I didn’t have tangled in that beloved fiery hair, shot to my mouth to silence my cries. My boyfriend was sucking me off against the back of a dragon… and I couldn’t get enough of it. _Godohgodyeahfuck_ … I loved this, oh, sweet naked Merlin, how I loved this... I stared down intently, obsessively, at that beautiful, fiery head that seemed to glow faintly through the darkness, moving between my legs, while the gentle tongue and that demanding mouth worked me through the sweetest torture ever. MerlinChrist, I could never get enough of watching Hugo Weasley on his knees in front of me… of the feeling of that luscious softness wrapped around me, sucking me mad and helpless, and I delayed as long as I could. But in the end I couldn’t win this. The crazy rush of danger, the excitement, the greed to have him, paired with the unbearable pressure in my balls, pushed me near edge in a few measly minutes.

“Fuck… fuck… oh, Hugo… fuck…”

He hummed in approving pleasure around my painfully hard, dripping shaft, and that ungodly vibration was the last straw. The naked, exposed head of my cock slammed against the back of his slick throat one last time, and I lost myself in him spectacularly. A broken yelp was the only kind of warning I was capable of:

“Hugh… fuck, Hugh… I’m going to…”

Oh, blast… fuck… Merlin… _game.fucking.over._ I was spilling down Hugo’s throat and into his divine mouth, lustfully milking ever last drop of me, and I barely managed to breathe my muffled screams into my abused hand. _Jesusfuck_ … The time seemed to have stopped and the world sunk into in pitch blackness, because coming into that juicy, soft mouth, perfectly shaped to take my cock, was a fucking mind-blowing poetry. He licked me dry, and gave me time to come to my senses, but this time I knew better than to let him go away that easy – we weren’t finished yet, I wasn’t having it. He’d outlasted me every single time, I was willing to bet that this time it was no different. I knew just how I wanted to show him that we were it; that we were for real.

I pulled him up to his feet, and let my fingers take a stroll down the beautiful lane of milky freckled skin of his naked torso, and they didn’t stop until they reached the hard swelling between his legs, and he moaned most heavenly.

“Shhhh, you’ll wake the dragon,” I whispered still out of breath, feeling playful and naughty, as my fingers hovered just above the impressive hard bulge. “Now… Hugo Weasley, you’ll do exactly what I tell you to do. You are going to take this mouth-watering, absolutely fucking gorgeous cock of yours out… and in your hand… and shove it right up my arse, because I can’t take a fucking minute without you. I’ve been feeling empty, so fucking empty ever since you left this morning, and there’s no way I’m ever letting anyone fill my hole but you, my decadent redheaded devil. Do it, Hugh… come on, baby, you know you want to…”

“ _Merlinfuck_ , Scorp…” he gasped, as I turned around and pressed my naked arse against the fabric of his trousers, nearly tearing under the pressure of his heavy cock.

“Do it, Hugh…” I whispered, already at half-mast again at the very thought that I’m going to get fucked properly against the back of a living dragon. I could be as crazy as him, if I chose to.

“Oh, Merlin, yessss…” he finally moaned, and when I heard the now-familiar spell on his mouth again, I knew I had gotten my way with him yet again.

I loved the feeling of his fingers at my entrance. I knew what to expect now, and I was ready to savour every moment of it. The slight burn when he got me ready with those long, adept tools of pleasure, all the while whispering filth and reverence in my ear... the incredible feeling of being stretched and my body accepting it, more than ready to bow to its master… the feeling of his swollen cock, of that impossible thickness entering me, conquering my flesh, branding me with sweet fire of expectation, and finally feeling me up completely… oh, god. I had positively turned religious with the feeling of that cock deep inside of me. I had no words left. He knocked all the breath and sense out of me.

He stopped, giving me time to adjust, and even though he was behind me, I could clearly picture the puffs of hot air and arousal coming through that sinful mouth, and that intense expression in those pools of blue light, that enslaved me completely.

"You need to let me fuck you, beautiful... I want to fuck this taut, round arse of yours so hard it'll burst, you fucking gorgeous cock-tease..." he whispered in my ears, hungrily kissing my neck, as if begging for permission. "I need it, blondie... I need my boy."

_Godhavemercy_ , the waves of hot arousal flushed my skin rosy from the very tips of my ears, sucked on by that beautiful, filthy mouth, and his needy words were making me squirm and want and ache with yearning, until I all but hissed at him: “Give it to me, Hugh! Give it to me now…”

The way his hips slammed into me with no mercy and no delay was a testimony of how desperate he was, and how badly he needed it. And my safety mechanism was not ready this time – I yelped loudly in a jolt of pleasure and I felt the dragon hum and grunt under my chest. He somehow – god knows, how – made himself stop, seated deep inside of me, grinding into me with the slightest move of his hips, and I couldn’t bloody take it.

“Please…” I begged hastily. “Please, Hugh, you have to. I live for this shit, I want it… I want you. Deep, and hard… yesssss… like this… oh, god… like this… all the way in. So I can feel you… don’t want to feel anything, anyone but you… you and I… together… _ohMerlinfuckpleaseyeah_ … Hugo, Hugh… precious, please…”

He fucked me just right... so goddamn perfect... just the way I begged him to, deep and hard, aiming straight for that spot that sent jolts of savage pleasure up my entire body, and my held-back whimpers were no more. I was yelping loudly, unable to hold back, and I didn’t give a fuck if I was going to get served fried to some angry dragon – the way Hugo Weasley fucked me was totally worth it.

“Is that good for you, baby?” he murmured through gritted teeth in my ear, just the way it made my nipples burst. “Is that hard enough? You want more, angel? Here’s more, my love… here’s everything. I love you, Scorpius Malfoy… love you, my Scorp… baby, please… love you so…”

His desperate hand found its way onto my swollen cock and the moment it closed around the girth, I knew this was it. _Jesusfuckyes_ … He slammed into me from behind and the brutal force of his shove pushed my cock through the tight, calloused ring of his hand. I yelped and pushed back, impaling myself onto his cock with all my might, an animalistic godless grunt escaping me from the unknown depths where Hugo Weasley reigned savage.

“Yesss, that’s it, baby… come undone… come for me… _Jesusfuck_ , baby…” he moaned, and came like a freight train, helplessly trying to muffle his roared surrender by biting me into that sweet spot between my neck and my shoulder… and just the hint of pain was enough to make my balls explode. I loved it, and he knew it… he knew me. I shot my load all over his fingers, and all over the bloody dragon, coming with a loud, unstoppable cry of his name, feeling complete, and insanely happy for the first time since the morning. Merlin…

I rested my boneless upper body on the curved side of a dragon, with my eyes closed and my heart pounding madly, thinking that I just might not survive this love thing. The way I loved him… it was almost too much. I let the intoxicating feeling fill me up from my chest, that seems to expand with the sweet, heavy sensation, all the way down to my toes, still tingling with the force of my orgasm, and I felt a fucking million galleons worth. Holy Morgana, did being in love always feel so… intense? How did people survive when they lost something like this? The very thought made me shiver and I had to bite down a whimper. He must have felt my distress, and he pressed into me from behind, telling me silently he wasn’t letting go, and I slowly relaxed against his firm, warm chest. Merlin, he felt good. The feeling of happiness flushed through me once again, making me snuggle into his arms and whisper a quiet _‘Love you’_. I was feeling embarrassingly vulnerable.

Loving Hugo had turned into a proper drug of mine, and like a true addict, I could no longer imagine my life without my blue-eyed fix. How did I ever manage to stay away from him for as long as I did – and why would I ever want to?! If nothing else – the boy was a sex god! At fifteen, Hugo Weasley was a proper sex god, I swear it, a bloody orgasm-inducing perfection, who had this sex thing all figured out… and my randy teenage body god-honestly needed it… but he was also  _so_ much more. He was my Hugh, someone I belonged to, plain and simple. It wasn’t just sex; pleasing my Hugh in every way was turning out to be a serious kink of mine. Fuck, I was still full of his cock, breathless, boneless, barely more than a stupid puddle of happy – with a whiff of anxiety – and I was already contemplating our next time; what else was I willing to do for him, with him.

It took nothing but a loud dragon growl and a huff of hot air to wake me up from my orgasm-induced reverence. My heart was back to its god-honest attempt at making a mad escape through my chest when Hugo’s mouth pressed a soft reassuring kiss under my ear, relaxing me considerably. That was the power he held over me – even when my prospects of getting incinerating were soaring, he could still make me feel better just by his loving, confident presence. Somehow, I just knew he wouldn’t let the irritated beast turn me into a pile of cinder.

“Relax, love,” he whispered in my ear, when his hips and my arse finally disconnected, and I winced as he let his cock slide out of me. “She's fully awake now, but she can’t see well in the dark, so just don’t move… until I tell you to,” he added calmly, almost matter-of-factly. I just nodded silently, too petrified to make a sound, but my heart nearly stopped in panic when I heard him chuckle softly.

“It’s not the sound she’s bothered with,” he explained in a soft voice. “That’s Norberta, the one she-dragon that’s more a pet than a workload to Uncle Charlie. Unfortunately – or given our current circumstances, perhaps not – she’s been quite deaf since she took part at the Battle of Hogwarts. Too many blasts, Charlie reckons. He’s been taking care of her ever since, she wouldn’t make it on her own for long, incapacitated as she is. If it was only down to her scaly skin, she wouldn’t even know we’re here – that thing is a proper armour! But her scales and her poor hearing aside – she’s far from harmless. Norwegian Ridgebacks have incredibly keen sense of smell. She can probably smell us already, but she’s used to people more than a regular dragon would be, and I suppose we don’t smell of immediate danger or we’d be roasted peanuts already. But the less you move, the less likely she is to react. Just let me do the work – get us decent again, since I imagine you’re not that good with running with trousers around your knees – and I’ll redirect her attention so we can get out of here.”

That sounded like a reasonable plan, so I nodded my acquiescence, and let him go on with cleaning and dressing us up. And it felt strangely right and comforting being taken care of like that, with one of his arms pressing me close to his body protectively and the other hand doing miracles with his wand. Even with the shadow of a she-dragon looming above me, her huffing, unnerving sounds, and the smell of embers emanating from her uncomfortably warm breath, I still felt as if there was a lot of worse places I could have found myself in. My Hugh was with me and he wasn’t going to let me come to harm; that much I knew. I was far from calm, and there was adrenaline coming out of my ears, but it still felt more like a surreal adventure than like a real danger.

“Done,” he said quietly. “We’re going to have to do this quickly. The entrance they got her into the cave is on the other side of the cave, and she can’t follow us through this door; it’s for the dragon-minders only, and far too small for her. She could still turn us to ashes and cinder, though, if we linger in one spot for too long, so as soon as I distract her with a spell, we need to be out of that door. Can you do that for me, babe?”

“Hugo… you crazy, impossible madman, of course I can do it,” I blurted out, swallowing my panic as bravely as I could, trying to stretch my muscles while standing still as much as possible. I was a Gryffindor, I reminded myself nervously, we lived for this shit. _Or died of it_ , my high-strung brain squealed at me with anxiety, but I shut the irritating thing down, it wasn’t helping. I felt Hugo's strong fingers wrap around my hand and _that_ helped; it helped a lot. I could do this. I could totally do this.

“On three,” my mad, bad boyfriend whispered. “One, two – _Reducto!_ – three! Run!”

A blast was deafening, because Hugo never did anything half way, and so was the dragon’s roar. And out we were, in the chilly night air, holding hands and running like two kids who just pulled a prank against a deafening background noise of a roaring dragon. It took me a while before I realised I was smiling from ear to ear. And that smile was quite impossible to wipe off. That was what it had meant being with Hugo. No crazy, dangerous thing was off limits and I found strange freedom and childlike happiness in that.

The closer we got to the shack where we left our fathers and the spare Weasley uncle in, the slower my legs worked. I didn’t want to go back just yet. I was greedily savouring every sweet second when I had Hugo all to myself. Those moments of his warm fingers intertwined with mine were priceless to me, and I wasn’t ready to let go of them just yet. And there was that… other thing.

I was here for him, but Hugo was here for a reason. He wanted to spend his summer caring for dragons, and here I was, hating the idea. Merlin, I just found him, I just found a way into his embrace and into his heart, I wasn’t ready to let go of that just yet. In short, I was happily sliding back into my selfish Malfoyian skin. Most of the time, I was all right with being a Malfoy, and a selfish arse as such, but at that moment… at that moment I wasn’t sure I wanted to be that person anymore. That person had made Hugo and himself miserable – was I really willing to go down that road again?

But how on Merlin’s horny earth was I supposed to stand two months away from him?! I could barely consider minutes, and hours earlier today had been a proper torture! Oh, what the fuck was I to do?! Why did I have to go and fall in love, and become so irreversibly, viciously smitten, just before the bloody summer holidays?! Couldn’t that godless sack of hormones I had for a body at least waited until September?! Oh, all the woes of being a randy teenager, about to compete with a whole reserve of dragons!

Once again, he had felt my anxiety, as he always did, and he stopped in front of the door without my bidding. He silently pulled me into his embrace and locked my mouth with his and I melted into him like it was the last moments we had on earth. Oh, god, he tasted of me, of more, of every bloody thing that I craved, and in that moment I just knew I wouldn’t be able to let him go. Fuck being charitable, this was too precious. I made a little helpless, desperate sound into our kissing, because I needed it to go on too damn much, and I was ridiculously happy when he made no attempt to break us apart.

“You, Sir, look properly shagged out,” he informed me, chuckling softly into our kiss, and I confess it made me beam, and smile blissfully at him. I liked that idea – I _loved_ the idea of me looking shagged out by Hugo – oh, bloody hell, yes! I was at the stage when flaunting the idea of having him as a boyfriend sounded like a brilliant one. I was totally done with hiding in the shadows and dark corners – my gorgeous boyfriend was meant to shine, and I was quite ready to wear him proudly around my neck for as long as he was willing to have me. 

“Not quite ready to go back in yet?” he murmured, and I just hummed my affirmation. Anything more would require letting him go, and I wasn’t into that at all, nope, not one bit.

“Just a little bit longer…” I half moaned because his tongue had just brushed against mine and all the ideas that didn’t involve sucking on it had conveniently slipped out of my head. But it wasn’t meant to be.

“Hey, Malfoy, check this out. Blimey…. You might want to tell your son to stop eating my nephew for dinner, or there will be nothing left of him to take with me to Romania… Bloody hell, come and see, he’s really at it! Don’t you feed the boy?”

Damn Charlie Weasley, that impossible cock-blocker! Did he really have to stick his grinning head through the door at that very moment? Or were we being so damn loud? Fuck… so much for enjoying my last, few, private moments of devouring my delicious boyfriend…

I always knew there was no way in hell we would be able to sneak in without being noticed, not if the amount of anxiety in my father’s voice when he last called out to me was anything to go by. Hell, for all I knew, he was probably counting the seconds to my return and mentally projecting all the horrible ways in which I was getting mangled – either by a dragon or a mad Weasley, was anyone’s guess. The relief on his face when we finally walked in, holding hands as if that was regular business, was ridiculously blatant. Yet, he said nothing. Imagine that. I think the goofy expression of a love-struck fool on my face stunned him silent.

“So, are you two done saying goodbye?” Charlie Weasley said casually, still sporting that silly, cheeky grin, and I was honestly considering offing the annoying man. “A friend of mine dropped by while you two were busy shag–… uhm, with each other. Apparently, the portkeys have been successfully recovered from a pile of dragon dung but they need to be cleaned – no surprise there and I as sure as hell hope they do the job well. So, if luck is on our side, we’ll be able to leave in half an hour or so. You are still leaving with me, aren’t you?” he looked at Hugo with his smart, honey-coloured eyes, and it was physically painful how these words cut through me.

It was a rare moment to see Hugo so flustered. For a second there he looked downright miserable, but then he his eyes darted towards his father: “Dad,” he said as if asking for advice. “I…”

And Ron Weasley just smiled at him – his smile a bit sad, a bit wistful, clearly communicating something to him a father-son language no one else understood.

“You know what I’d do,” the older redhead said quietly. And the second Hugo opened his mouth I knew what he was going to say. He was going to sacrifice his perfect summer for me, because that was the way the Weasleys were like. They followed their hearts, always. And I was finally a man enough to do the right thing. I think I grew up more in that 1,5 second than I did in the whole 15+ years of my existence.

“ _Of course_ he’s still going!” I blurted out, and for once I shocked a room full of adults silent. Hugo turned his head towards me slowly, and those mesmerising pools of blue brilliance captured my eyes.

“Scorpius…” he said softly.

“And so am I,” I managed in a much more feeble voice, that was going for the assertive and completely failed.

“Blimey,” Charlie Weasley said and the smidge of laughter in his voice was unmistakable. “That’s an interesting development. Your boy’s got a flair for drama, Malfoy.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron Weasley agreed, sounding equal part shocked and strangely appreciative. “You can say that again. Some son you’ve got, Malfoy.”

“Scorp… you don’t have to,” Hugo said quietly. “I could always go another year.”

“You can’t,” my father finally barked from behind, sounding utterly shocked and even a bit panicked. I suppose _‘The Malfoys always keep cool’_ routine didn’t exactly hold up against the notion of his only son boldly following his Weasley boyfriend into the dragon lair. It _was_ a bit of a stretch, if I was entirely honest.

“I can’t allow that,” he finally said, sounding a bit more composed, but still quite anxious. “You’re underage, you can’t go without my permission, and I won’t give it. You know nothing about dragons, you might as well be walking straight into your early grave. You are my only son. I can't allow it. I’m sorry.”

He had the good grace to at least look regretful, yet firm. He had made his decision. But I only smiled at him politely, mentally baring my teeth to take a good chunk out of his protectiveness.

_Don’t.Ever.Underestimate.Me,_ parent dearest, that smile said. Not when I was standing up for my heart.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go near the dragons… much,” I said sweetly, trying to quickly cast away a very inconvenient flash of memory of what I just did _against the back of a living dragon_. “You’re quite right, Father. I know nothing about them, and I hold no love in particular for them. I do, however, love Hugo here, quite fiercely, and I’m afraid I’m quite unwilling to let him out of my sight for any length of time. I’m certain there are odd jobs there a-plenty for me to do that do not involve coming near the scaly inhabitants of the resort. For example, I’m fairly certain even the tough men like dragon-minders have to eat, and I happen to be brilliant with Potions – I can’t see how making food could be much different. I would be more than willing to help in the kitchen of any kind. Or…”

I swallowed. The prospect of cleaning dragon dung was not something I was looking forward to but we had to perform similar god-awful tasks at the Care of Magical Creatures, and I was seriously considering offering myself up for that should my cooking proposal be dismissed as inadequate. You see, I was dead serious when I said I wasn’t ready to let Hugo go. Not at any price.

“Perhaps it could be only for a month…” I proposed instead in a shaky voice, when the silence stretched for far too long. “And not two.”

I looked at Hugo pleadingly, and found him smiling; that soft, brilliant smile of his illuminating his beautiful face from within, and I let myself be pulled into it. Before I knew it, I was smiling as well. Oh, I better have him on my side! I couldn’t lose without him.

“Only a month,” he agreed promptly. “I think Mum would go spare if it was any longer than that – after all, how could I get ready for the next school year in anything less than a month!”

Yessss! He was with me, he wanted me there with him, he wasn’t ready to let go! The flush of joy that flooded me, actually made me knees weak. I had Hugo – and I was quite ready to face the world entire next; I was unstoppable! I couldn’t stop myself from grinning at my beautiful, sexy boyfriend madly, blissfully, my fingers clutching his to the point of turning them blue, since I had no other way to tell him differently, how happy he had made me.

 “Bloody hell,” Ron Weasley said again, this time softly. “I guess you got yourself one for life, Hugh.”

“I guess I did,” Hugo spoke just as softly, flashing a grateful smile in the direction of his father for his silent acquiescence – before he went on to pull me closer without a warning. His sweet, delicious mouth was on mine before I knew it, and I simply melted into it. Oh, god… I was so right… we should never part. I was willing to do _anything_. Dragon dung, here I come.

“Uhm… I suppose we _could_ do with a bit of help around the kitchens,” I heard Charlie Weasley cough out, the amusement in his voice quite unmistakable. “The only spice good ol’ Valeri, our designated chef, seems to know, is firewhiskey that tastes like paint stripper on the best of days, and when the food is so entirely hopeless he can’t even rely on that to make it better, his only solution is to pour it down his throat. Yeah, I reckon at this point even having a one-armed Squib who’s failed at Potions would be considered an improvement!”

Yes, yes, yes! I was yet another step closer to having this crazy, outrages idea of mine come to life! And now only one last – but most difficult – obstacle remained. Father.

And for that I was even willing to break a kiss with Hugo. Temporarily, of course, so hopefully he would forgive me. More so, because I was determined to get back to that super-important, earth-shattering activity as soon as I could. But only for that moment, the little matter of obtaining my father’s approval to spend half a summer in the shadow of the most badass dragons in Europe, had to take priority.

I pecked Hugo in the corner of his mouth, hoping he would recognise it as “more, soon”, the way it was meant, and I straightened myself up to face Father. His face was strangely wistful when I looked at him, almost as if he wasn’t even looking at me, but at some image in his head that had replaced me.

“Dad...” I said pleadingly, shamelessly using my super-weapon. “I really need to do this, Dad.”

“When did you grow up so fast?” he suddenly asked in a voice that had a bit of tremor underneath. “You were just cradled in my arms, dozing away during your goodnight story, and now I’m expected to give you up.”

“Dad…” I said, unable to find the right words, and now my voice was shaky as well. I wasn’t expecting that, I wasn’t ready for his sadness.

“Look at you, all grown up, brave, and so damn handsome!” he said quietly, and his grey eyes shone with pride and a certain silver softness that I barely ever had a privilege to see before. Draco Malfoy with his heart wide open was a thing of beauty.

“You know, I spend half a year expecting your visit and I swear I can barely close my eyes on the night before your arrival, certain that something would happen that would take you away… and now it did,” he said softly, and I suddenly felt like bawling to the point that I had to bite my trembling lip not to surrender my guns.

“You’re all grown up, and ready to leave, ready to go… somewhere unsafe, somewhere I can’t protect you. And I… I’m supposed to agree to that,” he said strangely sadly, as if he was wondering to himself how did it ever come to that. “I suppose I knew this day would come… but I imagine I was foolishly hoping I would have more time. But I guess nothing could ever get one ready for this. You’re both so very young still – just like another father had noticed… but for all my infamous selfishness and fatherly love, I cannot bring myself to stand between you and your happiness. So, I suppose, this is where I tell you to fly, my son, with dragons, if you must.”

I swear I knocked the breath out of him when I flew into his embrace, and he closed his arms firmly around me to hold me tight.

“You better take really good care of yourself, young man,” he whispered into my hair, sounding choked, but my own throat was so constricted with emotion, I barely managed a reply:

“I most certainly will, Father. Brush my teeth twice a day and such… and I will learn to cook the hell out of that peasant food! I’ll show them what banquet means, Malfoy style!”

“Indeed,” he chuckled softly, and I might have heard him sniff a little. “I better let you go, then. Or that fierce boyfriend of yours might change his mind about dating a boy that still clings to his father that much.”

I had to laugh through my tears, but as soon as I let my arms around him dissolve, I found out I could simply exchange one embrace for another. Merlin, there was my Hugo already, knowing how badly I needed him, and I practically fell into his arms. I closed my eyes, when his arms engulfed my body protectively, and I allowed that wonderful scent of his wash over me with all its soothing warmth, and tell me that I had made the right decision.

“You need to keep him safe,” I heard my father tell Hugo firmly, and I felt my beautiful, strong boyfriend nod in response.

“With my life,” he said quietly, but there was such dedication in his voice that my father no longer seemed to have the need to say anything more.

“Come, Malfoy, let’s get sloshed,” I heard the voice of Ron Weasley mumble in the background, and a blunt thud made it sound as if he had hugged my father across the shoulders. “Our babies growing up like this... I swear this shit is too damn depressing. I’ll be ready to jump off the bridge, when it’s Rose’s turn. I never took you for such a softie, though. I swear you almost had me bawling right along with you…”

“I _wasn’t_ bawling, you ginger idiot! It’s all this bloody smoke from those damn beasts,” I heard my father’s begrudging voice grow distant, because he apparently couldn’t find any fault to the idea of _‘getting sloshed’_ with a fellow grieving father… and a potential future relative.

“We leave in ten,” I heard Charlie Weasley tell us. “Be ready.”

And then the door closed behind him as well. I was finally alone with my Hugh. Alone, and free to be with him. All these months wasted, and now I finally got my heart’s desire. I was barely able to comprehend that those were indeed his broad shoulders I was resting my head against, that this was his glittering, rich hair that was tickling my neck, and that if I opened my eyes I would see the galaxy of golden freckles everywhere. I loved this. I loved him.

“Why did you do that for, love?” he asked me quietly. “You didn’t need to. I already have me. I would have given up anything for you.”

“Well, Hugo Weasley,” I straightened myself up and clumsily wiped the traces of my tears from my face, before I looked straight into those radiant, mesmerising blue eyes. “If I learned one thing during this utterly mental, exhausting year, was that there is a difference between being able to have… and being desperate to keep.”

And then I dove straight for his delicious, soft lips, stretched into a welcoming, sexy smile. My Hugo. My boyfriend I finally got to have… and to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And game over once again. I want to thank everyone who's joined me for such a long ride - I god-honestly can't blame anyone who gave up, there are stories I'm prouder of. But I hope there was something to enjoy for at least some of you, and my thanks go to all of you out there who helped me out with encouraging, inspiring words when I needed it most. I'm off to new challenges. :)


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